Fifty Shades Altered
by Fiftyesque
Summary: While helping his mother with with a charity event, Christian meets a young woman and her son, and is immediately entranced. But does she feel the same?
1. Chapter 1

Ask any man who is the one person in the world he would drop everything for, who he would give his life for and I guarantee that more often than not, the answer will be his mother. In most cases, men don't want to be seen as a mama's boy so they wouldn't volunteer that information, but the moment he learned his mother needed him, he'd be right at her side.

I'm no different. Even at twenty-seven years old, the owner of one of the most successful companies in America, and a bank account people would kill for, I'd give it all up if my mother needed it. I've always been grateful to Grace Trevelyan-Grey for adopting me and saving me from what I know would have been a horrible fate, and I've spent my life trying to find ways to show her my thanks. That's why I'm in a Seattle park on a sunny summer afternoon surrounded by dozens of children, their parents, and an array of carnival games. A few years back, Grace setup an annual event for children she works with at the hospital. A lot of them were born premature and addicted to drugs thanks to their parents, some were orphaned, some were just sick. This is her way of giving those children something to look forward to when their parents or foster parents can't afford to give them anything more than the occasional Happy Meal from McDonald's. And it's a chance for the parents to relax and for once pretend whatever problems their children have don't exist, even if only for a few hours.

Naturally, all of Dr. Grace's children are volunteered to help out with the events, even when we'd rather be doing anything else. I can think of a dozen projects I should be working on right now, but instead, I'm helping my father man the grill. Around me, children of all ages are squealing and running around and laughing, and I'm already wondering how quickly I can make my escape.

"Hotdogs are here," Dad announces triumphantly, placing the food beside me on the picnic table. "How come the burgers?"

I flip another round of the hamburgers, cooking them to perfection. "Well, unlike Elliot, I think I can manage to cook a simple burger without burning the place down." I refer to an incident a while back when my family and I were camping and Elliot volunteered to cook us lunch. The next thing we knew, the forest ranger and fire department were trying to control the fire he managed to cause that took out our whole campsite. I may suck at cooking, but I've never fucked up that much.

"Which is why Elliot is running the dunk tank," Dad says flatly, shuddering at the memory. "Mia seems to be having fun with the face painting booth."

We both turn and look across the park to where my little sister is, of course, going overboard on her task. A kid walked past me about fifteen minutes ago and it looked like Mia had tried her hand at recreating a Van Gogh painting. The kid's cheek looked like she fell into a puddle of paint, though she seemed to have enjoyed it nonetheless.

"Careful," I warn. "Next thing you know, she's going to want to move out to Paris to work at the Louvre."

Dad snorts a laugh and we turn back to the grill. The spread of food provided isn't exactly five-star dining, but these people seem to enjoy it. We've got every backyard barbecue food anyone could want and then some. While the kids play and eat, there are a couple of dozen game booths as well as a cotton candy and popcorn booth. Near the end of the day, a local ice cream place arrives and sets up an ice cream sundae bar that even I enjoy. The kids leave here with toys and prizes, a sugar high, and huge smiles on their tired faces, which puts a huge smile on Grace's face.

"Don't tell Elliot, but we rehired that clown from last year," my dad says to me conspiratorially.

I laugh out loud. Though you wouldn't know it looking at him, my big, tough, older brother has a clown phobia worse than any of us has ever seen. We didn't know anything about it until last year when a clown my parents hired to entertain the kids arrived and Elliot sprinted out of the park in record time. By the time we found him, he was hiding up a tree and refused to come down until we promised to keep the clown on the opposite end of whatever side of the park he happened to be on. It was a priceless family moment that he will never live down for as long as he lives.

"Here, take him a burger," Carrick requests, making a plate of food. "Make sure he's actually doing what he's supposed to be doing."

Obediently, I take the plate and grab a couple cans of soda from a cooler beside the grill, and set off towards the dunk tank. Elliot is in his element right now, on his perch baiting the kids who step up in an attempt to hit the target with a softball. To my annoyance, he's still completely dry and feeling smug. His latest girlfriend Shannon is handing kids the balls, letting the smaller kids a little closer to the target to better their chances.

"You'd think there would be at least one kid around with decent aim," she says when I place Elliot's lunch on a table behind her.

I smirk, watching a little blond boy with glasses take his place with a softball. Elliot is teasing him, making faces at him, and the kid seems a little intimidated with all the attention. A woman, who I assume to be his mother, jogs up to him, kneeling beside him to give him some advice. He grins and nods at whatever she tells him and turns back to the target. Shannon and I laugh at the startled look on Elliot's face when the ball skims the edge of the target. On his second attempt, the kid's aim is dead-on, but the throw isn't hard enough to drop Elliot into what I assume will be very cold water. The third attempt misses completely, eliciting disappointed groans from the kids behind him. He looks so upset that he couldn't hit the target that I decide a bonus throw is in order. Grabbing a ball from the basket at Shannon's feet, I approach the kid before I realize what I'm doing.

"Hey, why don't you try again," I suggest, kneeling down beside him. "Fourth time's a charm."

The boy's mother is staring at me, something I'm accustomed to, but it's not until I actually look at her that I figure out why she can't seem to tear her eyes away from me as I'm having the same trouble. She can't be any older than twenty-two and her kid looks about three, and she's beautiful with her long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and her big blue eyes trained on me. Shaking myself when I hear Elliot telling me to hurry it up already, I turn my attention back to the boy, shooting my brother a glare. Rather than risk this kid missing the target again, I whisper a few words to him, making him grin hugely and nod eagerly. Next second, he runs forward and hits the target with his hand. Elliot squeals like a little girl as he hits the water and all the kids and parents in line laugh. The little boy looks thrilled at what he did and runs back to his mom, talking a mile a minute.

"Did you see, Mommy?" he asks excitedly. "I made him fall in the water."

The woman chuckles and nods, picking up the little boy and settling him on her hip. "Yes, baby, I saw," she says indulgently. "Good job." She turns to look at me, mouthing _thank you_ before taking her son to the next game booth.

"My pleasure," I murmur bemusedly as I watch them leave, completely ignoring Elliot's bitching about how I cheated. Shannon tosses him a towel while he resets the board to its locked position. As I begin to return to the grill, I hear Elliot say something about a fifteen minute break so he can eat, causing the kids to groan again and disperse elsewhere. I look around for the woman and little boy, but I don't see them, and when my phone rings with a call from Ros, I put them out of my mind.

* * *

After lunch, I find my mother and a friend of hers at the cotton candy booth, happily wrapping pure sugar around little paper cones bigger than most of these kids' heads.

My mother spots me approaching and she frowns briefly. "Let me guess," she starts. "There is some work emergency and you absolutely have to take care of it yourself."

I flinch at the disapproval in her tone. Normally work is my excuse to get out of things like this, particularly on weekends when I have a submissive contracted. As it is, I don't currently have a submissive, which is probably why I'm feeling so uptight today. "Actually, I was just coming to see how things were going," I reply.

Grace looks surprised but pleased. "Oh, well it's all going very well as you can see, though your brother is trying to convince us to make the clown take his place at the dunk tank."

I grin, shaking my head as I look around. Not far from where we are I see the little boy from the dunk tank and his mother throwing beanbags at cardboard yellow ducks to win prizes. My stomach jumps a little when I hear her laughing even over all the noise surrounding us. I've never heard such a beautiful laugh in my life and I suddenly have the desire to hear it again. Rationale returns suddenly and I shake myself, inwardly chiding myself for the direction my mind is taking all on its own. I must be overtired if I'm coming up with flowery shit like that...

Nevertheless, I'm curious. "Hey, Mom," I begin, quietly, "what's their story?"

"Whose?" she asks glancing up and following my gaze. "Oh, that is Ana and Cody. Cute little guy, isn't he?"

I nod in agreement, though I'm more focused on his mother. "Was he one of the preemies?"

Grace nods with a sad smile. "He certainly was," she confirms.

"Drugs?" I ask coolly, dreading the possibility of an affirmative answer.

"No, nothing like that," Grace answers, stepping away from the booth so we're not overheard. "His mother was in a car accident when she was just under seven months pregnant. Her injuries were so severe that they had to take her into immediate surgery and take the baby early in the hopes of saving her. Nobody really expected Cody to survive, but he's a strong one. It was touch and go the entire time he was in the NICU, and it was such a relief when Ana recovered enough and she could take him home. They haven't had an easy time of things and this was the first year I extended Ana an invitation that she was actually able to accept and get the time off work."

"They're both okay now, right?" I have no idea why I'm so concerned with people I don't even know.

"Mostly," Grace says. "Cody has some minor health issues and vision problems, and he's on the small side for a three-year-old, but Ana is mostly recovered and they're coping. It's just nice to see them having a good time. I don't think I've ever seen them smile and laugh so much."

I watch as Cody chooses the biggest stuffed animal of the bunch—a giant giraffe that's nearly twice his size. Grabbing one of the cotton candies from my mother's booth, I excuse myself and walk towards the two of them as the woman named Ana convinces her son to let her take the giraffe so he doesn't hurt himself. He grudgingly allows it.

"Nice giraffe," I say, smiling as I approach them.

Ana's smile slips away and she pulls her son closer. "Yes, it is," she says quietly.

"I think we forgot to give him his prize for the dunk tank," I say, holding out the cotton candy for Cody to take. He looks questioningly at his mom who nods that it's okay.

"Thanks," he says shyly, taking the sweet from me.

I watch in amusement as he buries his face in it in an attempt to eat it, chuckling when he resurfaces and the pink stuff covers his face.

Ana shakes her head but smiles, rolling her eyes at me. "We're still working on that whole table manners thing," she says apologetically.

"Well, we're not at a table, so I see no problem with his manners," I reply, giving her one of my most winning smiles. "I'm Christian, by the way."

"Ana," she says, placing a hand on her son's head. "And this is Cody."

"It's nice to meet you both," I say quietly. "Having fun?"

She nods. "We are, yes. And thanks again for that dunk tank thing; it made his week."

"Don't mention it; I'll take any opportunity to see my brother fall into cold water."

Her eyes widen. "You're Elliot's brother?" she asks, surprised. I'm a little surprised that she knows Elliot. "So Dr. Grace is your mom?"

"That she is," I confirm.

She shakes her head in wonder, looking all around us, perhaps wondering how I could possibly fit in with the rest of my normal, well-adjusted family. For some reason I'm hoping she doesn't analyze us too deeply.

"It's really amazing what she's doing for all these kids," she says. "I can't even begin to tell you how many doctors we see that can barely remember our names, much less invite us to a private carnival."

"She cares about her patients," I say. "I'm pretty sure she could recite the name of everyone she's ever treated given the time. She would do just about anything for her kids." I'm referring not only to me, my brother, and my sister, but all the children she treats as well. One of the running jokes between my parents is that Grace has close to a hundred kids, though she only shares three with Carrick. I've seen what happens when she loses a patient; for her, it is like losing one of her own children.

"Well, it was good meeting you, Christian, but we've got more games to play," Ana says as Cody finishes his cotton candy in record time. I can't shake the thought that she's trying to get away from me.

"And you, Ana," I respond, unable to think of anything to say that would keep her here talking to me. "Have fun."

She throws me a brief smile and goes on her way, leaving me to stare after her until I can't see her anymore.

* * *

"Holy shit, you're still here?"

Rolling my eyes, I turn towards my brother to find him rubbing a towel over his wet hair. I smirk when I see how much water is dripping from his swim shorts. "I was waiting around to see if you'd drown," I say dully.

He snorts. "Well, thanks to you, I had a dozen more kids run up and hit the target instead of throwing the damn balls. I'm pretty sure my brain is waterlogged."

"How could you tell?" I shoot back at him. He snaps his towel in my direction, missing me completely. "Your aim is worse than those kids'."

"You two behave," Grace says tiredly. The carnival ended an hour ago; now we're supervising the clean up. "And thank you both for all your help today. It means a lot to have all my kids in one place."

I smile. "Anytime, Mom," I say quietly.

She turns her attention to me with interest. "So I saw you talking to Ana earlier," Grace says leadingly, her tiredness suddenly gone. Elliot perks up immediately, looking between us expectantly. "She's a sweet girl, isn't she?"

I shrug. "I'm sure she is," I mutter dismissively. "I just thought her son deserved something for being forced to endure Elliot's pathetic heckling at the dunk tank earlier."

Grace smiles knowingly. "Well, that's very sweet of you," she says simply. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go make sure your father doesn't try to smuggle all the left over candy back home."

The moment our mother's back is turned, I sense the grin on Elliot's face and I know what's coming. "A girl caught the eye of Christian Grey?" he asks delightedly. "I never thought I'd see the day."

 _I'm sure you didn't, since you all think I'm gay_ , I think to myself. "I was just being nice," I inform my brother, exasperated. "That's it."

"Right," he says, drawling out the world until it's several syllables long. "Mom's right, you know. Ana's a really sweet girl. And her kid is adorable."

"How do you know her?" I ask, hoping I don't seem too overly eager for the answer or irritated that he knows her and I don't.

Elliot's smirk tells me I failed. "She works with Shannon at the bakery. The girl works so much she practically lives there. Shannon says whenever she can't get a babysitter she just brings the kid with her. She doesn't get out a lot either; I suppose paying the bills is more important than being social with her friends."

"That's how it should be," I say. "You hear too many stories of people ditching their kids to go party and something bad happens while they're gone because they didn't even have the decency to get a babysitter."

Elliot nods his agreement. "Still, if anyone deserves a night out, it's Ana. I know Shannon has offered a few times, but..."

We don't get the opportunity to finish our conversation as Shannon and Mia join us, both of them talking so fast we can hardly discern what they're saying as being part of the English language. It's another hour before my parents dismiss us and as I return to my penthouse apartment, I register that while it's normally a relief to arrive home after one of these events, suddenly the place seems too big, too quiet, and too empty. I have no idea why that hits me so suddenly, but as I ready myself for bed, I can't shake the feeling that something is missing in my life, though I couldn't even imagine what that something might be.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi, everyone. Thank you for the reviews on the first chapter! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. I have a vague idea of where it is going, so I'll try to update as often as I can!

* * *

Nearly a week following the carnival at the park, Elliot and I are having lunch at one of our favorite outdoor cafés. It's not often we get to eat here since it rains in Seattle ten months out of the year, so locals tend to flock here when the weather is clear enough. I try to make it a point to meet up with my family once a week or so; they usually seem eager enough to hang out with me and it's easier than dealing with the guilt-trips when I turn them down. After lunch, Elliot suggests we take a walk down the block to the bakery where his girlfriend Shannon works, claiming that's where he left his car. If I know my brother at all, he left it there as an excuse to meet up with her and have his own dessert that doesn't involve cupcakes and cookies.

But even I have to admit the bakery smells good as we approach. I don't often indulge in junk food, but I can see this place turning into a guilty pleasure if I'm not careful. Then again, the guilty pleasure might not involve baked goods at all: once inside the door, I immediately spot the little boy from the carnival sitting alone at a table, humming to himself and kicking his legs under the chair while he colors. Behind the counter working alongside Shannon to tend to the long line of customers is that boy's mother. I'd nearly forgotten about her, but here she is again and I'm reminded of the urge I had to talk to her that day at the park.

We reach the front of the line as customers get their orders and file back out to the sidewalk and I have to roll my eyes at Elliot's cheesy line to Shannon about needing something sweet between his lips. Shannon just laughs at him, sending me a smile.

"Hey, Christian," she says.

I nod my hello, my attention caught by Ana as she comes around the other side of the counter and goes to her son carrying a cookie and a glass of milk for him. She spends a few minutes with him while he tells her what he's coloring, a look of pure love in her eyes. As though she senses my gaze, her head turns towards me, blushing when she catches me staring. Immediately I clear my throat and turn away to listen to whatever Elliot is saying about plans after work. Then I realize I really don't want to hear those types of plans so I slide over to the glass display case with cupcakes of every flavor imaginable and a few that might have been invented here, cookies bigger than my hand, and cakes that look so delicious it's a wonder anyone eats them.

"Something catch your eye?"

I look up to find Ana on the other side of the case, a little smile on her lips. At the sight of her blush, I smirk, realizing her words were an unintentional double entendre. "Perhaps," I murmur, keeping my eyes on her. I can't remember the last time a woman caught and held my attention quite like this, especially a woman I know could never be my submissive. I may be a lot of things, but I sure as hell wouldn't contract a submissive with a small child. This woman, though... "What's your favorite?"

She smiles at the question and points at the bottom row of cupcakes. "Double vanilla bean with white chocolate filling and marshmallow frosting," she says.

"Vanilla," I repeat. "Not normally my flavor, but I'm all for trying new things." My double entendre was intended and judging by the widening of her eyes, she realizes that. "I'll take one."

Flustered, she nods, getting a little box for the cupcake and closing it up, tying it with a little blue bow. "You don't want to eat this all in one sitting," she mutters. I somehow manage to hide my smirk. "It's been known to cause sugar comas in cupcake novices."

I laugh at her overly serious tone and she smiles, her eyes sparkling because she amused me. "I am no novice in any sense of the word," I inform her, the huskiness of my tone unintended.

She swallows hard, walking over to the cash register. Both of us stop suddenly when we find Elliot and Shannon watching our interaction with high interest. I'm a little surprised neither of them has popcorn while they enjoy the show. I glare at my brother, turning it into a smile as I pay for my cupcake, slipping a fifty into the tip jar in front of Ana's register while she isn't looking, and announce that I have to get to a meeting. The look in Elliot's eye suggests I'll be hearing about this later. On the way out the door, Cody looks up at me, beaming and waving. Smiling, I wave back and leave the bakery to get back to work.

* * *

The next morning, Seattle is once again experiencing a downpour that is supposed to last all weekend. It's disappointing since I'd planned on doing a bit of soaring on Saturday. I still haven't done anything about getting a submissive; my interest level in that aspect of my life hasn't been high recently and I don't see it changing anytime soon. I need to do something; my mood is rapidly deteriorating and I'm starting to take my temper out on the people around me who don't actually deserve it. Just last night, Mia called to nag me about some benefit our parents are hosting and apparently that means my attendance is required as well. I don't quite remember what I said to her, but I'm expecting a call from Grace sometime today to berate me for my rude treatment of my little sister.

The only bright spot in my night was the cupcake I bought from the bakery. Ana had been right; that thing is nothing but sugar, but damn it was good. I could only eat a few bites and put the rest aside to finish it later. Though our brief conversation yesterday was technically about baked goods, I couldn't put that delicious blush on her skin out of my mind, particularly when I started to wonder where else I could see that color on her body. As shy as she seems, I imagine if I managed to get to know her, I'd really like what I would see. The fact that she's got a kid doesn't put me off her the way it might other men; I'm hardly around kids, but hers is pretty cute.

What the hell am I thinking? I've operated my adult life on a very strict routine. I keep my family life separate from my work life which I keep separate from my private life that I keep separate from my sex life. Nowhere in that routine is there room for some girl I don't really know anything about and her kid. There is a reason I'm not married and don't have kids. That isn't a life I ever saw for myself let alone one that I want. So why the interest in Ana?

Halfway to GEH, I still don't have an answer, but apparently my thoughts are manifesting into reality when we pass a woman standing beside a car with the hood open.

"Taylor, stop!" I say urgently. "Pull over."

"Sir?" he questions, even as he does as I ask. Before he even throws the car in park, I'm out of the back with no regard to the heavy rain falling on me as I return to the broken down car.

"Ana?" I call out as I approach. She spins around in surprise at hearing her name followed by shock when she recognizes me. "Are you okay?" I can't tell through the rain, but she looks upset enough that she could be crying.

She quickly wipes her face and forces a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," she answers. "My car broke down. I'm just waiting on AAA so I can get to work."

Taylor catches up to me with an umbrella that I use to hold over Ana's head for which she looks grateful even though she's already soaked to the bone. "Mind if I take a look, ma'am?" he asks, already removing his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

"Um, sure," she says, looking uncertainly at me.

I smile. "My head of security," I explain. "He's not too bad with cars either." Ana nods, but keeps looking at her watch and sighing, and with every second that passes, she looks a little more upset. "Are you late?"

She sighs. "An hour now," she answers dismally. "And the third time this week. Between babysitters backing out last minute, a power outage that took out my alarm clock, and now this, it'll be a wonder if I still even have a job after today." She glances up at me, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, I'm sure you have better things to do than stand in the rain and listen to me whine."

"If that were true, I would have kept driving," I say, trying to inject some humor into my tone. She cracks a small smile. "Listen, why don't you let me take you to work? Taylor can get someone to stay with your car until AAA shows up. There's no point in you standing out here wet and cold all day."

She hesitates, tempted. "You really don't have to do that," she insists.

"I want to," I argue. Before she can think of another argument , I turn from her. "Taylor, I'm going to drive Ana the rest of the way to work before she's even later. I'll double back to pick you up."

Taylor nods his approval of the plan. If I hadn't made the decision, I know he would have offered to stay anyway—I think it's the whole damsel in distress syndrome and it seems we both suffer from it. I hand him back the umbrella as he closes the hood and stands beside the car to wait.

"Come on," I say quietly to Ana, placing my hand at the small of her back and guiding her back to the car. I don't miss that my hand feels perfect resting against her. If the way she bites her lip as I help her up into the car is any clue, she agrees. Before I close the door, we just stare at each other for a second as though we're trying to figure the other out, which I suppose we are. I'm trying to figure out what's so fascinating about her and I don't think I've even discovered the tip of the iceberg.

The drive to the bakery is a short one during which Ana does her best to dry off, apologizing about all the water she drips on the floor. I smile to show her it's no big deal; water dries, after all.

"Thank you so much," she says emphatically when I pull up outside the bakery. "You're a lifesaver."

"My pleasure. Are you going to need a ride home tonight?" I ask before she can get out of the car.

For a second, I can see the thought of me picking her up after her shift holds appeal, but it's gone a moment later. "If I can't get a ride with Shannon, I'll just take the bus," she mutters, blushing again. "Thanks again."

I nod. "You could repay me with another of those vanilla cupcakes," I suggest, smirking.

She giggles and several things happen to me. For a start, I'm immediately hard as a rock and I drop my arm to my lap to hide the evidence. Next, it makes me want to hear that again and again for a long time. Lastly, I want to be the cause of that giggle.

"Deal," she agrees. "Next time you're in, it's yours on the house."

She opens the door, shoots me one last smile, and rushes out of the rain and into the bakery. I'm tempted to follow her inside now for that cupcake, but I don't want to get her into any trouble with the asshole standing behind the counter waiting for her with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. I have to remind myself this isn't my fight and that I'm sure Ana can take care of herself. It's difficult since I'm beginning to think that maybe Ana deserves someone to take care of her for a change and why couldn't I be that someone?

Shaking off thoughts that are both ridiculous and potentially very dangerous, I turn around and return to Taylor just as the tow truck driver is jumping out of the car. Taylor hands the guy a car key and shows the owner's registration that I assume he dug out from the glove box. While the two of them speak, I catch a glimpse at the paperwork and for the first time, I see Ana's full name—Anastasia Steele. I smile to myself; somehow it's a fitting name for her.

"I'll be taking care of any bills in relation to Miss Steele's vehicle," I tell the driver. "I want it taken to the best mechanic in Seattle and it needs to be returned to her place of employment by this evening."

The driver just shrugs, making a note of the place Taylor recommends. "You'll have to call them to take care of the bill. I just tow 'em."

We wait until the car is taken away to continue on with our day. "Taylor, make sure that's taken care of, please. Any issues with the car are to be repaired today, whatever the cost."

If Taylor is at all curious about why I'm so insistent about this, he keeps it to himself. By now, he knows better than to question anything I ask him to do. "Yes, sir."

As we drive past the bakery, I try to look inside and I think I spot Ana through the windows, but my phone rings and I'm forced to turn my attention to business. "Ros, what have you got for me?"

* * *

It's late afternoon when Taylor informs me that Ana's car has been returned to near new condition—a problem with an air filter which caused the breakdown this morning, an overdue oil change, tire rotation... the whole nine has been done on her car. It's even been washed inside and out, and waxed, and will be delivered before the end of her work shift. Though I would very much prefer to be there when she leaves so I can collect my cupcake and perhaps spend a little more time with Ana, I'm stuck in the office to oversee preparations for the closing of a deal that takes place in the morning with the arrival of several businessmen from Tokyo which also means I'll be spending the rest of my night refreshing my Japanese. Taylor will be taking care of ensuring Ana's car makes it there on time and that the key makes it back into her hands.

In what little bit of free time I've had today, I did a little digging on Miss Anastasia Steele. What I've found so far is quite sad. She was a Lit major at WSU and got pregnant in her second year there. There is no information on Cody's father since he isn't listed on the birth certificate. The only family aside from her son is a stepfather in Montesano. Her birthfather died when she was a baby and her mother was killed in a car crash shortly before Cody was born along with her husband at the time. It seems all she has in Seattle is her job at the bakery and Shannon. And Cody, of course.

After looking into her past, I want to help her out however I can, but from what little interaction between us, I don't think she'll be the type to accept the sort of help I could provide her and her son. The apartment they have is decent, though it's only a small one bedroom and I suspect that bedroom belongs to Cody, leaving Ana to sleep on the couch or something. Her car is far from quality, but at least after today I'll be confident it can get her from here to Montesano without stranding her on the side of the road somewhere. Her pay at the bakery is fucking laughable. I'm tempted to buy the place just so I can give her a pay increase, but even I know that's going overboard. I wondered briefly if there might be some way to make anything I give her seem as though it came from one of my mother's charity fundraisers that helps provide the patients she helps a better life. Doing that, however, would mean explaining to my mother why I have such a sudden interest in this girl and her son, and I'm just not ready to deal with that yet. It's bad enough that I'm avoiding phone calls and text messages from Elliot regarding the interactions he witnessed between Ana and me at the bakery. I am not looking forward to our weekend hiking trip.

Around midnight, I finally head home for a few hours, hoping for a bit of sleep but not getting my hopes up about it. Taylor informed me while I ate my dinner that Ana's car indeed made it back in time for her to leave work and pick up her son, and she seemed surprised but grateful that it was done so quickly. She even went back into the bakery and gave him a box of cupcakes for us to share. Taylor left the box for me, muttering something about Gail probably not being pleased to catch him eating cupcakes not prepared by her. I leave them at work, knowing I'll need a pick me up at some point tomorrow. As it is, I'm already trying to figure out how to see Ana again. It wouldn't be a stretch if I happened to drop by the bakery on the way to or from work, but I have to wonder how much more I can get away with that without her accusing me of stalking or something.

As I change for bed, I stop myself. What the hell am I doing exactly? This is not how I do things, ever, and yet here I am letting some girl I don't know consume my thoughts. Why? It would be so easy for me to distract myself by contracting a nice, compliant, little brown-haired girl to tie up in my playroom so I can whip and fuck her to my satisfaction. I could push Ana and her kid out of my head, which is exactly what I need to do. Ana on her own is too sweet to taint with my depravity and she'd probably run ten miles if I showed her any part of my lifestyle. But with a kid in the mix, anything involving Ana and me is out of the question; it would be one thing to introduce Ana to my darkness, but even I'm not sick enough to involve a kid, too.

I just need to let my good deed of getting Ana's car fixed be the end and move on; anything else is impossible and the sooner I accept that, the better off everyone will be.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a time not so long ago when I was able to distract myself with my work, kickboxing, one of my hobbies, or a submissive, and those things always succeeded in taking my mind off whatever I've been obsessing about. For the first time, however, those things have failed miserably and my thoughts are still consumed by Anastasia Steele. I can't work out why I've got this obsession with her; it makes no fucking sense. I'm no good for that girl, or her son, and nothing will ever change that, so why the fuck can't I move on from this and live my life?

I've hardly slept in days and this morning I gave up around three. I have further given up on trying to keep away from Ana which is why I'm sitting in a coffee shop across from the bakery waiting for her car to arrive. If I were smart, I'd have tried to find out her work schedule so I would know when to expect her; at this point, she could have the day off and this could be absolutely pointless, but I still don't move away from my chair beside the window.

Finally, just as I decide to give up and go to work before I get yet another message from Ros asking where I am, I see her car pull up to the curb. The engine is barely shut off when she throws open her car door and jumps out, rushing inside; I suspect she's late again today and I wonder what caused it this morning. She doesn't seem to be the unreliable type of employee who makes a habit of skipping work or being late if she can help it. Honestly, I think what she needs more than anything is a bit of good luck, or perhaps a more reliable babysitter. Rather than leaving the coffee shop immediately and heading across the street, I give her a bit of time to settle into her workday. It feels a little less stalkerish this way.

But as I watch, I rethink my decision to wait. Even from across the street with traffic obstructing my view, I can see Ana standing in front of the counter with a man I assume to be her boss, and they seem to be having a heated conversation. Well, it's a bit one-sided as Ana stands there staring at the man like a deer caught in headlights and he seems to be angry with her. His hands gesticulate as he speaks and right before my eyes, I watch Ana deflate. I'm out of the coffee shop and across the street without even realizing I stood up. I don't know what this asshole's problem is, but there is no excuse for him to be shouting at her. My desire to punch the dick in the face skyrockets when I see Ana is crying. Through the door, I can hear a bit of what's being said inside and I suddenly want nothing more than to comfort the poor girl.

"... sixth time this month! I get that you've got a kid, but I'm running a business here and I need employees I can rely on. I'm sorry, Ana, but I'm at the end of my rope here and I've got no choice but to let you go."

Ana says something too quietly for me to pick up on, but I think she might be pleading with him to change his mind. He shakes his head, holding out his hand until Ana resignedly hands him her work apron, then disappears into the back for a minute before returning with her purse and jacket. She's composed herself and holds her head high, not even looking at her now former employer as she walks towards the door. I step back several feet since I'm not even sure she's aware enough of her surroundings right now to keep her from running into me. Quietly and sniffling on the way, she heads towards her car, but rather than starting the ignition, she gets in, closes the door, and rests her head on the steering wheel. I watch for a few moments when her shoulders start to shake as though she's crying and debate about what I should do next. Actually, I know what I want to do next, but the last time I checked, beating the shit out of anyone to unconsciousness is still illegal no matter whether there are mitigating circumstances or not.

When Ana remains motionless in her car for several minutes, I decide to take my chances and walk over to tap on the passenger side window, bending down enough so she can see me. She jumps and looks over, startled, then quickly tries to wipe her face, now frowning in what is quickly becoming the customary recognition and confusion. Turning the key to the ignition enough to roll down the automatic window, she leans over.

"Hi," I say quietly, uncertain what to say.

"Um, hi," she says, bemused. "What are you doing here?"

I give her a small, hopefully nonthreatening smile. "I was across the street having coffee and you seemed upset, so I thought I'd check if you were okay." It's not a complete lie, but she doesn't need to know I've been sitting in the same spot for hours waiting for her arrival.

"Oh," she says, frowning again. "Yeah, I'm okay. It's just been a rough morning." Her eyes dart past me towards the bakery window where the manager is putting the table chairs on the floor before opening for the day. "I meant to find out from Shannon how to get a hold of you, but I haven't really had the time."

My eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise. "Well," I say, giving her a crooked grin, "now you've got me."

She blushes adorably. "I just wanted to say thank you for taking care of my car the other day," she says. "But you really didn't have to pay the bill."

"It was my pleasure," I say softly. "I'm glad I could help out." I hesitate, glancing at my watch for the time. In a few minutes, I'll be late for a morning meeting, but fuck it; I think Ana needs a friend right about now. "I was just heading to get some breakfast if you'd like to join me."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh," she says quietly. "Thanks, but I need to go pickup Cody from the babysitter."

"Weren't you supposed to work all day?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure your babysitter expects to have him for a while longer."

"Well, as it turns out, I don't have the means to pay her for all day," she replies, slightly bitter.

"I could cover whatever you charge her," I offer. Why am I pushing this? She's already said no and she's had a shitty morning, so I should just let her go. "It's no trouble and to be honest, I can't stand eating alone; I could use the company." That was a blatant lie; I'm accustomed to not only eating alone but also being without company everywhere else. Most of the time that's how I prefer it; but apparently today is not most days.

For a few seconds she seems to be on the fence, but when she sighs, I know her answer before she speaks it. "Like I said, thanks for the offer, but I need to go get my son. Besides, you've done enough and I wouldn't want you to spend any more money on my account; as it is, I'd like to pay you back."

I frown at her. "You don't need to pay me back," I say, sounding a little more annoyed than I like even to my own ears. "Consider it a gift."

"You don't know me well enough to give me a gift," she argues stubbornly. "And I don't accept charity."

The previous annoyance shifts into something that is a mixture of irritation and offense. "It wasn't charity," I tell her coolly. "I was trying to be nice."

"And it was very nice of you," she agrees, "but I prefer to take care of my own bills." She sits up in her seat and turns on the engine. "Again, though, thank you for what you did for my car and for being kind to Cody at the carnival. Now if you'll excuse me..."

I have no other choice but to stand up and back away from the car as she shoots me one last forced smile then rolls up the window before she pulls away. As her car turns a corner I try to figure out if she really is just stubborn and independent or if something I said caused her to turn me down. I suppose there is a possibility that I offended her when I offered to pay for her babysitter, considering she seems to think charity had a part in me taking care of her car repairs. It was of course nothing of the sort; everyone deserves to have a reliable car and I shudder to think about her brakes or something going out while she and Cody are out someplace. I'm glad I did it, too, especially since she no longer has her income from the bakery to help with her bills.

As I'm reminded of the reason Ana was upset, I'm tempted to head into the bakery and have a few words with the manager. The only thing holding me back is when I beat the shit out of the guy, Shannon will undoubtedly find out and will tell Elliot who will then demand to know why I was so angry on behalf of a woman I don't even know. And if it got back to Ana, I doubt it would endear me to her anymore than my perceived charity. I'll have to figure out something else and being such a creative guy, I know whatever I come up with will solve everyone's troubles.

* * *

"So I've been meaning to ask what the hell was going on at the bakery that day with you and Ana."

To my brother's credit, as predictable as his behavior is, he's held off a hell of a lot longer than I thought he would. Whenever possible, he and I get together for a hiking trip, something we both enjoy immensely and have since we were kids. Today, we've been at it for a few hours and only now is he bringing up the one subject I know has been on his mind all morning.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I mutter dismissively, adjusting the straps of my backpack.

"Bullshit," he objects good-naturedly. "Christian, Shannon and I both saw you and Ana making googly eyes over the cupcakes."

I stop in my tracks and look at him over my shoulder. "Googly eyes, Elliot? Really?"

He smirks. "It's the only way I can describe seeing my little brother look at a girl the way you were looking at her. I was waiting for you to start drooling and not because of the baked goods."

"Fuck off," I mutter, continuing on my way.

"There's nothing wrong with it if you're interested in her," Elliot goes on, ignoring me as always. "She's a very pretty girl and the two of you were rather cute together. Not to mention last week at the carnival when you helped her kid cheat to get me into the water at the dunk tank. That was pretty fucking adorable and you turned into a hero in that kid's eyes." I raise a skeptical eyebrow. "Come on, Christian, this is the first time in our lives that I've seen you show any interest in a woman; give me something, here."

"There is nothing to give you," I say, exasperated. "I talked to her a couple times at the carnival, talked to her a bit at the bakery, and the other day, I was headed to work and saw her car had broken down, so I stopped and Taylor waited for the tow truck while I took her to work before she was any later than she already was. Nothing is happening with us and nothing will happen with us." I've decided that with as much certainty as I can manage. What I need is to keep going on with my life exactly how I've been going, because that is what works for me, and let Ana find someone who can give her and her son a life they deserve. I only wish my conviction was as strong.

"Hmm," Elliot murmurs. "Well, it might be good for both of you if something were to happen."

I stumble over a tree root briefly at his words. "Why do you say that?" I ask cautiously.

He shrugs. "I don't really know Ana all that well; I only see her when I'm with Shannon, but what I do know about her is she's a really sweet girl and her entire world centers around her son."

"I'd worked out that much, strangely enough," I murmur under my breath so Elliot doesn't hear me. Though I'd rather he didn't see it, I'm eager for any insight into Ana that I can get.

"She's been dealt a really shitty hand in life and I think it's made her a bit jaded and suspicious of people," Elliot goes on.

"What does that mean?"

Sighing, Elliot removes his backpack and reaches for his water bottle, leaning against a tree as he drinks. "I know her mom died a few years back and Shannon has said that messed her up pretty bad, to the point she dropped out of college. She moved here hoping to find a job with some friend, but that fell through and she decided to just stay here even though she can't really afford to. Her kid has been sick off and on all his life so that adds to the bills and stress. Her dad has been in the hospital for a few weeks in Portland and she wants to go down and be with him, but she can't afford the days off or the gas. Then the other day, the asshole who owns the bakery fired her because she was running late after spending the morning on the phone with the hospital down there. Shannon wanted to quit out of protest, but Ana talked her out of it. Like I said, she deserves a break, but the world seems to keep conspiring against her. Mom and Shannon both said the first time they've seen Ana really smile lately was at the hospital carnival."

"Shit," I mutter, uncertain if this makes me want to run to Ana and help her through her troubles or if I want to put more distance between us because I would only make things worse. "What about the kid's dad? Where's he?"

Elliot shrugs. "I asked Shannon once, but all she'd say was the guy isn't in their lives and Ana doesn't like talking about him. Probably ran a fucking mile when he found out she was pregnant," he says in disgust. "Either way, I think they're better off without him." He glances briefly at me and repeats, "I think it might be good for everyone if you were to try things out with Ana."

"Do you," I mutter disingenuously.

He raises his eyebrows, smiling hopefully. "You don't?"

I roll my eyes. What can I say that won't lead him to further questioning my personal life? I've already let him see much more than I ever would under normal circumstances and it's going to be weeks before I begin to hear the end of it. But why am I so reluctant about Ana? It would be one thing if I'd just met her once or twice and never thought anymore of her, but I can't get her out of my head. For the first time in years, I feel something besides complacency for my life. The few meetings we've had has forced me out of the monotony I've been experiencing from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. The fact that she has a kid should be a warning sign for me; I've never been with a woman who has kids. One of the requirements to be my submissive includes nothing that will serve as a distraction which includes families, weekend jobs, and of course children. I don't have anything against children; they just don't fit in with my lifestyle. Could I make an exception for Ana and her son? Even if I decide I can, how the fuck do I handle it?

As much as I hate to do it, my brother frequently offers me dating advice even when we both know I typically ignore it, but right now, he might actually be of some use to me. "Have you ever dated a woman with a kid?" I ask suddenly.

He's just as surprised as I am that I asked the question. "Once," he answers after a moment. "A few years ago for about six months. She had a five-year-old. I wasn't particularly keen on the idea at first because you can't exactly have sex with a woman when her kid is in the same room. But I acclimated and the kid was pretty cool, so I started enjoying it. I thought we were getting serious for a while; I even started looking at engagement rings, but then the ex showed up again and she was still in love with him and since it was her son's father she thought it would be best to try and give him a second chance. Last I heard, they got married, had two more kids, and are living in Tacoma." He shrugs. "I wouldn't be opposed to doing it again, but it's got to be the right woman with the right kid or everyone is miserable."

"Elliot, I know nothing about kids," I say, shaking my head as we continue our hike.

"You don't have to. That's the beauty of it all; you just be yourself and let them take the lead. If the kid likes you, he'll show you what to do."

"And if he doesn't like me?" I ask.

Elliot shoots me a crooked grin. "Then you need to get the fuck out because that kid will make your life a living hell."


	4. Chapter 4

I'd like to say the hiking trip helped me come to some sort of conclusion about Ana, but I'd be lying through my teeth. The thought of being myself around them like Elliot suggested isn't an option; Ana would slap me with a restraining order faster than I could say "safe word." I have become practiced in being many different people in different environments and that's what this would be. The one thing I did decide is that I need to get this woman out of my system in one way or another.

After Elliot mentioned Ana's stepfather has been ill and in the hospital for weeks, I did a little digging to see if there was a way I might be able to help. Raymond Steele reportedly collapsed at the factory where he works one afternoon and was rushed to the emergency room where he was diagnosed with having had a stroke. Since his arrival he's been in a medically-induced coma to help prevent brain damage and the only thing that can be done at this point is to keep him comfortable. Unfortunately, his health insurance doesn't cover much so the hospital bills are piling up. Ana can't be much help; she's barely keeping her own head above water. To avoid seeing the hospital kick him out because his insurance refuses to pay anymore, I made a few phone calls to pay all his current and future bills, and a bit more to ensure my generosity remains anonymous. Ana wasn't particularly pleased when I paid her car repair bills and this is significantly more than that.

I'd like to say I'm just being a nice guy doing a kindness for another person to take a bit of weight off her shoulders and that is part of my motivation; Ana has been through enough and she shouldn't have to deal with this on top of it. I've done similar things for my submissives in the past; Number Four's mother was going through cancer treatments and needed constant supervision which would have meant she would have to miss several weekends with me. I hired a private nurse to do it instead. This time my reasons are far less selfish, but that is the only way I can rationalize it in my mind.

The only question now is how to best arrange another chance meeting with Ana and not seem as though I'm stalking her. From the information I dug up on her, I know where she lives and her phone number, but using either without her invitation would undoubtedly ruin things before they even begin. I could assign a member of my security detail to keep an eye on her movements and alert me when she's in an ideal location, but again, I don't see her taking to that very well. I could ask Elliot or even Shannon how to proceed, but I can't quite stomach the thought of suffering the knowing glances I would endure anytime I'm around either of them.

Unfortunately the ideas I come up with to legitimately see her again without being accused of becoming a stalker are painfully limited. The lives we lead simply don't intersect and our social circles don't socialize regularly. I never would have met Anastasia if not for my mother's charity event. Perhaps this should be a sign that I shouldn't pursue her any further. But the real problem is that I've only had a handful of interactions with her, none of which lasted longer than fifteen minutes, and the thought of not seeing her again and not getting to know her is already depressing to the point that the more I think about it the more volatile I feel. I've spent my whole life cultivating a level of self control that most others could never maintain for long, so I don't doubt my ability to successfully move on with my life without her in it; I just don't think I want to.

In a blatant and possibly pointless attempt to not make any real decisions in terms of Ana, I bury myself in work. It's possibly the most productive week I've had in months and while Ros seems satisfied and pleased, the others around me struggle to keep up. Anyone who has been employed by my company has learned quickly that if they don't keep up with my pace, I won't hesitate to replace them without a second thought. For the first time in my career, I'm slightly uncomfortable at that thought. All I can see is Ana being fired from her job and how tempted I was to rip her boss apart for upsetting her. Am I really any better than that asshole?

Rolling my eyes at myself, I pull up an email from Ros containing contracts we've been hammering out for months. My annoyance increases when my phone vibrates and I look over to see my brother's name on the display. Typically I'll hear from him once or twice a week at most unless he wants something, and even then he tends to send text messages. But for the last two days he has been blowing up my phone to the point that I had to turn off notifications from him just to get any work done. I'd be more concerned if I didn't know his entire point of calling and harassing me is to get me to join him for dinner tonight since apparently all the time we spent hiking over the weekend wasn't enough for him. I might be more willing if I wasn't completely convinced that his motivation is to further question me about Ana and my level of interest in her. I reject my brother's call and go on with my work.

It's after ten before I step off the elevator into my penthouse. My intention is to have a late dinner then fall into bed where I hope to sleep through the night for a change. But before I can even make it to the fridge where I hope to find a bowl of Gail's macaroni and cheese waiting for me I hear a faint thudding from down the hall, specifically the TV room. Since I hardly spend any time there, I know it's not a case of having left the television on. Briefly I consider calling for Taylor, but since Gail has been here all day and he didn't seem overly concerned about anything happening here, I investigate for myself.

I bite back my groan of annoyance when I see Elliot sprawled across the couch, feet on the coffee table while he plays the football video game I haven't even removed from its plastic yet. I was waiting for an evening when I thought I could stand to spend a couple hours drinking with my brother to play it. But here he is, making himself at home; I should've known.

"You're out of beer," he announces, his back still to me. "But, damn, can your housekeeper make some killer mac and cheese."

There in front of him on the coffee table is a large empty bowl with only traces of food still in it and a spoon. He does this shit just to piss me off.

I walk around the couch and settle into a chair far enough from him that it would take real effort to strangle my brother right now. Of course we both know I could easily kick his ass just as I've been doing since we were kids. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I ask tiredly.

"I was hoping to ask you," he responds, not taking his eyes off the screen as the team his is playing against scores a touchdown. "Or that was my plan two hours ago after you stood me up for dinner."

"I already told you I wouldn't be able to join you for dinner," I remind him, kicking off my shoes and reaching for the second controller conveniently placed on the table beside my chair. I'd be annoyed at my predictability, but it's easier to kick Elliot's ass in video game football. "Calling and texting every five minutes wasn't going to change that fact."

Elliot scoffs as one of his players fumbles the ball, making it easier for my team to get their hands on it. "Yeah, I told Shannon that was a stupid way to play it," he says casually. "But she was convinced you'd never have agreed if I laid it all out for you. I gotta say, this is the first time in our relationship where I was genuinely right and she was wrong."

My eyes dart to my brother. I know better than to get him to stop being vague before he's ready. I'm going to kick his ass in this game so letting him have this one small victory won't hurt. "If you have any intention of ever getting laid again, I wouldn't point that out," I say dryly.

He laughs. "Oh, the irony of you giving me advice about women," he says shaking his head. "Well, dinner was great, thanks for asking. I had the steak. Shannon had chicken... And Ana..." I freeze at the mention of her name. "Now that I think about it, Ana had chicken, too."

The silence between us is intentional on his part. He's waiting to see how long it takes for me to demand he elaborate. If it's too soon, he thinks it means I'm concerned with Ana's movements; too long and I'm intentionally letting time drag, and he will come to the same conclusion. This is a no-win for me, so in a childish fit of revenge, I send my entire defensive line to tackle his quarterback.

"Dick," Elliot says, shaking his head as his quarterback limps off the field.

"You've been here for hours, Elliot," I remind him. "Just get to the point so I can go to bed."

He sets aside his game controller and fixes me with his most irritating smirk. "Shannon and I decided that since neither you nor Ana are doing anything about it, we'd set up a double date for tonight. Ana, Shannon, and I all showed up, but you..." He shakes his head sadly.

Somehow I manage to set aside my controller rather than lobbing it at my brother's head. "And you didn't tell me this, because?"

Elliot rolls his eyes. "If I had told you it was a setup, you would have done exactly what you already did tonight. Except Ana wouldn't have felt like the third wheel and I'd probably be banging my girlfriend right now."

I ignore most of his statement and focus instead on the guilt-inducing part. The really sad part is, Elliot is right. Even if he had told me dinner was a setup, I probably would have tried to find a way out of it. This isn't the first time Elliot has tried to arrange a double date. A couple years ago, I went to meet him for drinks only to discover he'd arranged a blind date for me with a girl he'd met at a club over the weekend. I rolled my eyes and turned around to leave without sitting down. Unbeknownst to him, I had plans to have my submissive at the time over two hours later. I never bothered concerning myself with what the girls Elliot set me up with thought about my reaction towards them.

I'd love to tell myself this reaction is simply the result of knowing Ana hasn't exactly had a great few weeks and now to top it all off, she's been stood up. In reality, I feel guilty for those reasons, possibly upsetting her, and making her think I'm not interested.

Am I interested? Does it even matter?

"You're really going to try and convince me you don't like Ana?" Elliot asks, still smirking at me.

Sighing, I know the only way to get him the fuck out of my house is to get this conversation over and done with. I set myself up for this after our hike and my moment of weakness which led to the most candid conversation I've ever had with my brother. As much as I don't want to admit it, Elliot's advice was actually useful and not full of innuendo for a change.

"I don't know her well enough to like her," I deflect.

Elliot raises an eyebrow at me. "Firstly, the first stage of a relationship is physical attraction. And that is not something Ana is lacking. I mean, if I weren't with Shannon, you'd have some serious competition with me."

By now I should know when my brother is baiting me and be able to resist the urge to react, but as ever with this particular girl, resistance is futile. The glare I shoot him is, of course, exactly what he was hoping for. What I didn't count on is the sudden surge of jealous rage I feel at the simple mention that my brother, or anybody else, might be interested in her.

With his first point confirmed, Elliot and his cocky grin continue. "Second, nobody in the bakery that day we were there could be in any doubt that the two of you have some form of chemistry. Granted it might be irritatingly shy, introverted chemistry, but it was there, and not just from you. But if we're only focusing on you... Dude, you paid to have her car repaired after meeting her for about fifteen minutes in total. People don't do that. _You_ definitely don't do that."

"So what, I'm not people now?" I mutter mostly to myself.

Elliot huffs a laugh. "I'm not sure you've ever been people. And that brings me to my last point."

"Good, I might get to sleep at a decent hour."

Again he ignores me. "I know you're not experienced with this whole dating thing, but the whole point of a date is to get to know a person. You have dinner, a couple drinks, sometimes if those go well you take her to bed and show her a good time. Though with your whole virgin thing, I recommend putting that off for a few dates, let her get accustomed to your personality before what I'm sure will be a disappointing night between the sheets."

It's times like these when I begin to second guess what I've allowed my family to believe in regards to my sexuality, whether it be the belief that I'm very much in the closet or that I'm a virgin. Elliot has never been shy about sharing details about his own sex life, mostly because he thinks I find it embarrassing. And I do, just not for the reasons he thinks; nothing he's ever shared with me comes close to the things I've done with and to women. He's a novice compared to me, but of course he'll never know that so I'll sit here with my smug grin and let him talk himself out.

Elliot studies me like I'm a strange science experiment which is nothing new, but for some reason, this time it makes me slightly uncomfortable. "Is it her kid?" he asks.

Again, I roll my eyes. "No, it's not her kid," I reply, though even to me it sounds like a lie. "We have nothing in common, Elliot. And going solely by the length of your past relationships, that is a problem you frequently encounter."

He narrows his eyes at me. "Oh no, you're not turning this around on me. I had plenty in common with all those women—most of it centered around favorite positions in bed, but there's nothing wrong with that. Now, if your argument is because she's poor, I figured you of all people could connect with her on that."

My glare hardens. I don't like talking about the time before my adoption and Elliot knows this. He should also know, since we were raised by the same parents, that a person's economic status doesn't affect how I feel about a person. I've associated with people in all walks of life regardless of race, religion, or social status. I've known good and bad people in all those groups and I've learned that most often the people with the least amount to give are the most generous.

"Look," Elliot sighs, finally dropping all pretense. "Ana likes you and you obviously like her. I'm just suggesting you take a chance for once. If it doesn't work out, fine, but don't just give up because you don't think you're good enough."

Not for the first time, my brother is able to identify the real problem hidden far below the surface and like every other time, it's unsettling.

"If you're done playing psychiatrist, I'd like to get to bed soon. And you owe me for the beer," I remind him, reaching to the floor for my shoes. "Good night, Elliot."

As I leave the room, I hear his heavy, frustrated sigh and while it's hardly becoming, I feel vindicated and best of all, I don't have to admit that once again, his advice is actually helpful.

* * *

By the next evening, Elliot is on my shit list. After his ambush last night, all my thoughts are consumed by Ana, which isn't new, but the reasons I can't stop thinking about her are. I assumed the guilt would be somewhat alleviated by some passage of time; rather, it's only gotten worse. Ideally, I'd seek help from John Flynn on how to proceed, but to my chagrin, he's on a family vacation this week. I could call him anyway, it wouldn't be the first time I interrupted him while he's away, but I'm not sure I want to listen to his solution-based bullshit theories or worse, hear him tell me that pursuing a relationship with Ana would be detrimental to her or to me.

Though I've yet to admit it to myself, by the time I leave the office, I know my next destination will be to Ana Steele's door. And when I actually find myself at her door, I'm still not entirely certain why I'm here or what I'm going to say. This could be a massive mistake on my part and under normal circumstances I go out of my way to avoid mistakes as they cost time and money to correct. Once again I have to ask myself what it is about this girl that I can't seem to shake. For all I know she's not interested in me and the only reasons our encounters have been pleasant is because she was being nice. She was obligated, particularly after I took care of her car repairs. That's a depressing thought, but if that is the case, it's better I find out now with nothing invested into a new relationship.

 _Really, Grey? Nothing? Then why the fuck are you here?_

I still don't have an answer. Before I can talk myself out of this, I knock on the door. I don't hear any noise inside nor the approach of footsteps and begin to wonder if this endeavor is indeed pointless and nobody is home. It shouldn't come as a surprise; Ana is currently jobless so I imagine most of her time is spent searching for work.

 _I could bring her in at GEH..._

The thought startles me so much that I nearly leave. The path my mind is taking is a dangerous one and on that basis alone I should put as much space between Ana and myself as possible. Unfortunately, I hear the door unlocking during my hesitation and I realize it's already too late. The meaning of that statement multiplies when the door opens I see Ana there wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that is several sizes too big for her. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail that somehow accentuates the blue in her eyes. It's not the first time I've noticed them, but those other times the color was dulled and untrusting or sad and pale. Now the deep blue is brightened to a unique shade I can't compare to anything else I've seen before.

Where a moment ago, her eyes were welcoming and curious, once she recognizes me, they change to bewildered and wary, and for a moment, I wonder if she's about to close the door on me. I give her my best, hopefully least threatening charming smile.

"Hello, Ana," I say softly as though me showing up here was the plan all along.

She blinks at me and shakes herself a little. "Um, hello," she says uncertainly. Her brow furrows and her shock at finding me here fades somewhat. "Okay, two questions. How do you know where I live? And why are you here?"

Lips twitching, I work through the best way to answer. Naturally, the easier of the two questions is the first. "Shannon and Elliot gave me your address." Yes, it's a lie, but it's more palatable than telling her I have a whole file of information on her at home. "As to your other question..." I hesitate, glancing around the empty hallway. I'd prefer to have this conversation in private, but I imagine it's a little forward to ask if I could come inside. Perhaps if I give her the brief explanation she'll extend an invitation. "I wanted to apologize for the mix-up last night."

Her eyebrows rise. "Mix-up?" she repeats dubiously. "You mean when you stood me—erm, _us_ up?"

Though her words reignite the guilt from last night, I have to admit I'm pleased at both her word correction and the blush in her cheeks. "Yes, well... The way Elliot presented it to me, it was only supposed to be the two of us. I told him I was working late and wouldn't make it, but he kept insisting I go to dinner. I didn't realize you would be there; if I had—"

"You probably would have made the same decision you already did," she finishes for me.

I stare at her steadily, bothered by the fact that she can read me well enough to know what I would have done. "Either way," I continue, averting my gaze from hers lest she see anything else I'd rather she didn't. "I do apologize. It was rude of me to simply not show up without explanation and typically not how I handle things."

"But you wouldn't have had a problem if it had only been your brother you were standing up?" she checks, her tone tinged with what sounds like disgust at such an action.

I sigh. "Elliot can be relentless to the point of annoyance when he wants something from me whether it's going out for dinner and drinks or just shooting pool. I've learned it's less frustrating for me to simply ignore him when he gets like that."

She shrugs and leans against the door. "Okay, well, you apologized, it's accepted even though it's unnecessary, so you can get back to whatever it is you're so busy with," she says dismissively.

Her tone is irritating, but as she stated, my mission here is accomplished. I can turn around and leave, and get on with my life and let her get on with hers.

Except that isn't the only reason I'm here and until I get an answer one way or another, she'll be in my head, taunting me. "I'd like to make it up to you," I say quickly as she steps back from the door, probably to close it on me.

She pauses, one hand on the doorknob. "Why?" she asks as though it's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. I try to come up with a response, but can't find one. "Look, if this is because you feel guilty, don't. It doesn't matter. Shannon told me the same thing Elliot told you—that it would only be the two of us going out. I didn't realize it was a setup until I got to the restaurant. Yes, I was a little disappointed when you didn't show up, but truth be told, it was probably better that way. I'm rather busy myself right now and I don't have time for dating or games."

"I don't play games," I say quietly. "Not those kinds, anyway. I also don't date. All I'm asking is for one dinner with you. After that, if you're not interested, then so be it, we'll go our separate ways and won't meet again."

Her expression doesn't give anything away. I'm bracing myself for rejection, trying to think of someway to convince her. "One dinner?" she repeats quietly.

I hide my smile, sensing triumph. "One dinner," I confirm.

She sighs. "I have conditions, both of which are deal breakers," she declares.

I hide my surprise when I realize she's negotiating with me. _I really think I'm starting to like this girl..._

"State your terms, Miss Steele," I say evenly.

She frowns for a moment. "First, as I'm certain you've figured out, I don't like games and I can't do lies. I've dealt with both and I won't do it again. We're talking zero tolerance policy. It's not only for me; I have a young son and I will do whatever it takes to protect him from anything that might harm him."

I nod my understanding. "Fair enough," I agree. "I much prefer honesty myself and I will endeavor to give you the truth at all times."

 _All times? So when does she get to see the playroom?_ I've already reached the conclusion that this woman is not in any way involved with BDSM and I very much doubt she has even a passing interest in any sort of introduction. Does it count as lying if I don't even bring up the subject? I know the answer to that and on that basis alone, I should walk away right now. I decide a change of subject is in order.

"Also, I am fully aware that you have a son and I'm fine with it. Admittedly, I don't have much experience with children, so I hope that won't be a problem."

She shakes her head. "No, that's fine," she says distractedly. "But on the topic of Cody, he is my priority and I will choose him over everything else every time."

"Understood," I reply stiffly. In all of my past relationships, the requirement was that I am the priority. This will be a whole list of firsts for me if Ana and I get past this first dinner.

"Lastly, you should know that while I'm aware that you are quite wealthy, I'm not, and as such, I'm not comfortable being showered in gifts or letting someone pay my way. I really do appreciate what you did for me by getting my car fixed, particularly since it's a necessary tool in a job search, but you can't make a habit of doing things like that."

And there's strike two. She doesn't know that I took care of her stepfather's medical bills and if she finds out, I imagine it will be World War III. Not to mention I rather enjoy being able to spoil the women I've been in relationships with. It's the best way for me to show that I care. The list of reasons why this is a bad idea continues to grow. The odds are very much stacked against me. But I think she will be worth the risk.

"The manners instilled upon me by my parents insists that I at the very least buy you dinner, so you'll have to at least accept that much," I reply.

For the first time since I got here, her lips twitch into a smile. "Fair enough, I guess," she replies. "Those are my conditions for now. They may or may not change as time passes."

"I can accept those conditions. Shall we say Friday night, 7:00? I can pick you up here."

She hesitates, possibly trying to form a response about meeting me wherever we're going, but she nods. "Okay, Friday night. If you don't show, please don't come back here again. I won't be interested."

From that, I infer that she is currently interested and I intend to keep her interested. "I'll be here," I say softly. I'd like to lean in and kiss her cheek, but that's probably pushing my luck. "Until then, Anastasia."

She gives me a tight smile and I turn to walk away, listening closely for the snap of her closing the door. It's not until I reach the elevator that I hear it and step inside with a smug smile.


	5. Chapter 5

The time between Tuesday and Friday drags on like it never has before. It's been awhile since I had something to really look forward to that wasn't the same routine as always. I almost wish I'd made dinner plans with Ana earlier than Friday; more than once I've tried to talk myself out of this. I've had my phone in my hand, my finger poised over her name in my contacts, but always changed my mind at the last second. I have replayed my conversation outside Ana's apartment so many times I begin to wonder if I imagined the whole thing. Every word she spoke, every look she gave me, every slight movement her body made has been analyzed with a scrutiny that has helped me build my business over the years. Doubt has crept in when I least expect or need it; is she actually interested in me or did she only agree to dinner because of my pathetic plea at her door? Sometimes I think the former, mostly I'm stuck on the latter. But only dinner on Friday night will say for sure.

Rather than dwell on what may be a disappointing evening, I've made plans. I have taken into account Ana's conditions, particularly the one about money—I'll deal with the others if we get to that point. Naturally, I want to take her someplace nice, impress her with an amazing meal complemented by the perfect wine, but I'm slightly lowering my standards. The last thing I want is to overwhelm her with something trivial like wealth, so my regular weekend eateries have been ruled out. But from what little I know about her, during her time in Seattle, she's been busy with things apart from sightseeing, so I imagine there might be a chance she hasn't seen much of the Space Needle. We have reservations for a window table of the restaurant.

As for what happens after dinner, I've still yet to decide. Typically I'm not a fan of the unknown, preferring to have every detail of my life planned so that I have full control. For once, I'm letting that slip; Ana seems like the type that lives day by day, whether by choice or because circumstances forced it upon her. I'm eager to find out which and to learn whatever I can about this girl in the hopes of discovering why I seem so drawn to her.

Elliot so helpfully pointed out that I'm not familiar in the art of dating and he's not wrong. I'm not sure if it's customary to call a date in the days before the actual event or if that would come across as too presumptuous. Mostly I want to call and find out whether she's changed her mind or not. Showing up at her apartment again may not have the desired results if she's having second thoughts, so it would be better to know in advance.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—by the time Friday arrives, I'm too busy to focus on thoughts of Ana for long. I've spent the whole week working late into the night to ensure that we won't have a repeat of the double date Elliot and Shannon setup. While I eat lunch, I listen in on a conference call with my heads of department, all of whom are, for once, working to my standards. As I skim through finalized contracts about to be sent out for signatures, I'm on the phone negotiating with a team in New York for a failing shipyard that could increase my company's effectiveness tenfold. And when my mother calls for a weekly chat, I'm typing up a proposal to acquire hundreds of acres of farmland in the Midwest for use in food shipments to third-world countries and experimental farming technology that will improve the quality of that food.

By five o'clock, my e-mail inbox is under control, all necessary meetings have been completed, and there is nothing keeping me here. Shutting down my office and gathering the materials I'm bringing home for the weekend, I muse that this is the earliest I've left the office in years. The reaction I get as I pass Andrea's desk is amusing.

"Go home, Andrea," I instruct her, smothering a smile. "Enjoy your weekend."

I don't often get to see my PA speechless. "Um, yes, Mr. Grey," she stutters. "You, too, sir."

I give her a wink as I make my way to the elevators, very much enjoying the shocked expression she still wears.

Once in the car headed back to Escala, I realize there is still too much time before I see Ana again and I'm restless. I briefly consider showing up early, but decide a workout is in order. I could go for a run to burn off my excess energy and nerves if I didn't think the possibility that I would end up outside Ana's building was as high as it is. No, an hour in my home gym is better all around.

After a satisfying workout and subsequent shower, I move to my closet. But rather than reaching for one of my suits as I normally would, I dress down for the evening in a pair of dark blue jeans Mia gave me for Christmas last year. I've only worn them once or twice due to the artful rips in them. Mia insists they're in fashion; I wonder why anybody would actually pay for jeans with holes in them. I grab blue linen shirt that I belatedly realize matches Ana's eyes almost perfectly and my pair of sneakers, and head back into the bedroom before my thoughts go anymore awry or flowery.

With my leather jacket in hand, I grab my wallet and keys and head to the security office where Taylor is finishing whatever he's working on before spending the weekend with his daughter.

"I'm headed out, Taylor," I inform him. "I imagine you'll be gone before I return, so have enjoy the time with your daughter."

Taylor nods. "Enjoy your weekend, sir. I'll be back some time Sunday evening."

With that, I make my way down to the garage and choose the least flashy car I own, which admittedly is still pretty damn flashy, but it will have to do. I'm not a huge fan of traffic; I prefer the open road where I can put my foot down and just drive. But such is the sacrifice of living in the city. What I'd really love is to live in the middle of nowhere with a ton of land and no neighbors for miles, like my grandparents with their apple orchard. I wonder vaguely what Ana would think of that, or what my grandparents would think of her, but quickly shake off that thought. Way too fucking soon to think anything close to that.

Tonight I'm impatient and spend most of my time glancing at my watch to ensure I'm not late. Every time traffic slows or stops, I curse under my breath and tap impatiently on the steering wheel. I hate being late anywhere, but somehow this is more important than a business meeting or anything else I'm doing, and I still have no idea why.

For now, I'm willing to let uncertainty fall to the wayside and try to just enjoy myself for an evening. And if all goes well, there may be another chance after this.

 _Seriously, Grey? The first date hasn't even begun and you're thinking about the second?_

Sighing, I finally pull up to Ana's building and find a parking spot. I have to stop overthinking things. It's a good habit in business; it's a bad habit in most other facets of life. As I reach Ana's door I'm struck with the uncommon feeling of nervousness. The last time I felt like this, I was sitting in my father's study with him and my mother, telling them I was dropping out of Harvard to start my business. That ended less than pleasantly—I sometimes get the impression they're still slightly disappointed that I didn't finish college—so I hope tonight goes better than that did.

I wait nearly a minute after knocking, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. Another minute passes—has she changed her mind? Have I already blown it?

At long last, I hear rushed, muffled footsteps behind the door and the locks click just before the door is open revealing Anastasia Steele. I stand stunned for a moment. The few times I've seen her, she's been dressed in jeans and a t-shirt or sweatshirt or her work uniform. Clearly tonight she has made more of an effort. She's still dressed simply, but instead of jeans she's in a simple sheath dress with no sleeves. Her hair is pinned up in a messy bun that somehow works for her. The makeup she's put on is barely noticeable and perfect for her.

Belatedly, I realize we're both staring wide-eyed at each other as she also checks me out. Her blush tells me she doesn't find me lacking either. "Hello, Anastasia," I say quietly. "You look lovely."

She blinks several times as though she isn't certain I'm actually here, but blushes when my words register. I'm growing quite fond of her blush. "Um, thank you," she says, smiling. "I wasn't sure what we'd be doing, but I can change if..."

I shake my head and her words trail off. "What you're wearing is perfect," I say honestly. "Are you ready?"

"Nearly," she answers, stepping back from the door and inviting me in. "I just need to grab my shoes. I got a bit of a late start getting ready..."

I smile as I walk past her, finally getting a peek at her personal space. "Take your time," I murmur distractedly. She gives me a tight smile and moves quickly down a short hallway to what I suspect is her bedroom.

While I wait, I look around. Her apartment is small—the whole thing would probably fit into my great room—but it's warm and inviting, and clearly Ana has put in the effort to make it a good home for her and her son. Along the living room wall is a series of photos, mostly of Cody, but one that catches my attention immediately. It's of Ana and Cody, presumably not long after his birth. Ana is lying in a hospital bed, one arm in a plaster cast, and some cuts and bruises on her face. But none of that seems to bother her as she stares at a tiny bundle of blankets in awe. I recall my mother telling me Ana was in a car accident shortly before Cody's birth; this must be the results of that. Regardless of her injuries or obvious exhaustion, she looks beautiful. Sad, but beautiful. And I wonder once again about Cody's father and why he isn't in their lives. Is Ana still into him? What if he decides he wants back into their lives, where does that leave me? Elliot suspects he ran when he found out Ana was pregnant. If that's the case, she deserves better than that.

Movement behind me catches my attention and I quickly wipe my mind of those thoughts as I turn to spot Ana sitting in an armchair slipping on a pair of boots that come up to the middle of her shins. Naturally, that sight brings on a whole new slew of thoughts that have nothing to do with her past and everything to do with seeing her wearing nothing but those boots, preferably somewhere around my ears.

I clear my throat and adjust my stance, hoping my reaction to those thoughts will be overlooked. "Where's Cody tonight?" I ask instead.

"He's staying with Shannon," Ana says, smiling as she stands, grabs her purse, and a light jacket that goes well with the rest of her outfit. "That's why I got the late start. She was grilling me about my plans tonight."

I smirk, familiar with Shannon's grilling techniques. They rival only Elliot's. "And what did you tell her?" I ask curiously.

"That I wanted an evening to myself," Ana answers, not quite meeting my gaze. My smirk turns into a frown at the thought that she didn't tell her best friend that she and I were going out tonight. Perhaps she didn't actually expect me to show up. Or she's embarrassed to be going out with me. Ana catches my expression and quickly goes on. "It's just that Shannon always gets a bit... overzealous at the idea that I might show an interest in having a life outside Cody and I didn't want to deal with whatever advice she might give me. I'd just like to get to know you on my own, for now at least."

The corner of my mouth pulls up into a small smile. "Well, I can appreciate that," I say, approaching her. She tenses when I'm within a few feet of her and I can't decide if it's because she likes the close proximity or she doesn't. "Shannon has, after all, learned from the master of overbearing—my brother."

That coaxes a smile out of her again.

"Shall we?" I ask softly, gesturing for the door.

Outside the building, I reach out and place my hand at the small of her back to guide her towards the car without thinking about it. She tenses momentarily and I nearly withdraw my touch, but a second later, she's relaxed again, and I smile to myself, very much enjoying how perfectly my hand fits against her.

 _Where else would it fit well?_

I smother my smirk as we reach the car and open the door for her. She's surprised again; has no man ever opened a car door for this girl? It's Manners 101. If that is the case, clearly she simply hasn't known the right men.

 _And you're the right man?_

Shaking myself, I smile at her as I close the door and quickly move around to climb into the driver's seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her looking around the interior of my car, then at me. "What?" I ask smiling slowly as I start the ignition.

"Nothing," she says quickly, buckling her seatbelt. "Just... Nice car."

Chuckling, I nod. "Yes, I think so," I say lightly, pulling into traffic.

I try to think of something to talk to her about and come up empty. All the things I've wanted to ask her aren't exactly first date type questions. This isn't a submissive interview so going through our hard and soft limits isn't an option. And the only times I've been forced to make small talk have been in business settings—somehow I doubt Ana has any sort of stock portfolio or even has an idea what her golf handicap might be.

"So how did you meet Shannon?" It's the first question that comes out of my mouth and I belatedly realize it's a good one; this might give me some insight into her life.

Ana takes a breath and turns back to face me. "By chance, really," she answers. I glance at her expectantly, unwilling to accept that as an answer. She smiles slightly. "When Cody and I moved to Seattle about a year and a half ago, it was because I wanted to be closer to his doctor—um, your mom. And my college roommate had work up here waiting for her and she offered to let us stay with her for a bit. She even offered to pull some strings and get me work at her company. But right after we got here, her father died and everything kind of fell apart as far as my plans. Her family lives in Colorado so she decided to move out there to be closer to them. She felt bad for basically pulling the rug out from under me and even after she was gone, let us stay in her apartment for a couple months so I could find a new place. I thought about just going back to my dad's, but I don't know, I guess pride and stubbornness kept me here. We managed to find our apartment and the landlord cut me a really good deal.

"When I started looking for work, I looked everywhere. All of the 'professional' jobs require a college degree, which I don't have, so that left the minimum wage jobs. One day I decided to stop at the bakery for a quick break and it was busy. Shannon was working alone. I overheard her on the phone to someone asking when he was coming in to help and I guess he told her he wasn't, so Shannon told him not to come in ever again. Once she had the rush under control, I asked if they were hiring and she said yes. We talked for a while, I filled out an application, and the next day, I came in for an interview with the owner."

"And you enjoyed working at the bakery?" I ask curiously.

She nods. "Yeah, I did. I wouldn't say it was my dream job and it's not what I went to college for, but it turned out to be a really great experience. As I turned out, I was good at it." She shrugs. "I think a lot of that was down to Shannon. She taught me a lot and helped me through a lot."

"Shannon does that," I say, mostly to myself.

A side glance catches the furrow in Ana's brow as though she's trying to work out what that means. "You've known Shannon awhile, then?" she asks quietly, possibly slightly jealously. It's not a trait I tend to find attractive, but with Ana, there is some appeal.

"She and Elliot have known each other since high school. We've always gotten along as well as I get along with most people."

She raises an eyebrow. "Which suggests you don't along with most people," she observes.

I chuckle. "I suppose I don't, for the most part. I spend all my days working and building up my company. There isn't much time for socialization."

"Yet here you are with me," she says, her tone bordering on wonder. "So you don't have any hobbies or things you do with what little spare time you might find?"

A number of responses come to mind along with images, all of which suddenly involve Ana, but I stick to the more innocent pastimes. "When I do manage to get a free weekend, I enjoy sailing and soaring, and other outdoor activities. Our dad was always quite the outdoorsman and he instilled his interests in us when we were younger."

"Sounds fun," she says wistfully. "My dad loves to fish. An old army buddy of his has a little cabin near the Wynoochee River so we'd go out for a couple weekends a year."

"Is that something you enjoy as well?" I ask, grasping at anything we might have in common.

"Yes and no," she answers. "I mean, it was nice being out in the middle of nowhere with the peace and quiet. Fishing wasn't really my favorite activity, but I enjoyed being out there with my dad."

I nod, noting the sadness in her tone at the mention of her father. "And Cody?" I ask, hoping to dispel any negative feelings. "Does he enjoy fishing?"

She huffs a laugh. "He tries, but he doesn't quite have the attention span yet. Not to mention the necessity for quiet. Cody is more into Legos and superheroes and baseball."

"Baseball, huh?" I ask, curiosity piqued. My family has held season tickets to Seattle Mariners games for as long as we've lived here and one of the first things I did when my company began to succeed was purchase a skybox at the stadium. Elliot and my dad get more use out of it than I do, but it goes someway to showing them affection in my own way.

We pull up to the Space Needle after a few minutes and instead of parking, I move towards the curb where the valet is waiting.

"We're eating here?" Ana asks, looking out the window and up at what little she can see of the monument from this view.

I smother a laugh at the look on her face. I've been surrounded by tourists often when I'm out in the city, and she looks just as amazed as they do. "Yes," I answer, parking the car and climbing out to hand my keys to the valet. I make it around the car quickly enough to help Ana out before another valet who is clearly checking her out can reach her. He stops as I glare hard at him and backs off. The glare is replaced with a smile when I hold my hand out for Ana and she takes it without hesitation.

As we walk to the elevators that will take us to the very top, I don't release her hand and it's a relief when she doesn't pull away. I like the feel of her hand in mine more than I'm willing to admit right now, and I think she might even feel the same.

I clear my throat as we step in the crowded elevator. Covertly, I move us so that my back is against the elevator wall and force myself to cope with being surrounded by so many other people. Thankfully, Ana doesn't seem to notice my brief bout of panic.

"Have you been here before?" I ask her. Even with all these people here, the moment our gazes meet, we may as well be completely alone. The air crackles between us and if we were alone, I'm not sure I could refrain from pinning her against the wall.

A light pink blush is creeping up her neck and for a brief moment, she bites her lip which only challenges my self restraint to its breaking point. "I've seen it," she answers. "Not this close, though."

"You should enjoy this then," I respond. "The food is quite good and the view is spectacular."

When we step out of the elevator, I guide Ana towards the restaurant where we're led to our table. The view is better than I'd hoped. Tonight is clear without a cloud in view and though we can't see the stars through the city lights, there is still plenty to look at. But rather than take in the Seattle night, I find myself watching Ana look at it all as though she'd never seen anything quite like it. I sometimes forget that not everybody had the opportunities afforded to me and my siblings.

After we've placed our dinner orders and sip our wine, we begin to talk. The conversation is easy as we discuss all the things I imagine those on first dates do—favorite movies, music, places we've traveled. As I suspected, Ana hasn't even left the continental United States, but she always wanted to visit Europe, specifically England. I don't know if it's the wine that's made her relax or if it's something else, and I frankly don't care. There doesn't seem to be a barrier between us that has been present all the other times we've met and I like it.

"So what did you study in college?" I ask her, refilling her wine glass. I already know she was an English Lit major, but I want to know more.

"British literature," she shrugs. "The classics—Austen, Hardy, Brontë."

I can't help feeling that's like a kick to the gut. "So you're a bit of a romantic, then," I say, hoping I don't sound as forlorn as I suddenly feel. Romance is not part of my repertoire and if that is something she is looking for or expecting, she's going to be greatly disappointed.

She shrugs, averting her gaze again. "Not so much anymore, I don't think," she answers. "I guess I'm more of a realistic romantic after college."

"What changed?" I hear myself asking.

She takes a breath to answer, but our meals arrive first and we busy ourselves with that. For the next few minutes, I feel a wall between us again that makes me wonder if I somehow ruined our evening. I look up at her when she sighs to find her pushing her food around her plate, her brow furrowed.

"Was it Cody's dad?" I ask before I can stop myself. She looks up at me, startled. "Is he why you're no longer a romantic?"

I want to take that deer in the headlights expression from her face. "Um, yes," she answers eventually.

"Can I ask about him or is that not proper first date etiquette?"

Thankfully, she cracks a small smile. "No, it's okay," she says. "I'm not sure there is a proper time for that discussion, so getting it out of the way early probably isn't the worst idea ever."

"If you're uncomfortable talking about it, it's fine," I say quickly despite my growing curiosity.

She shakes her head. "It's not that. It's just not my favorite subject." She takes a deep breath. "And there's not a whole lot to tell. I met a guy in college when I was a sophomore. I was young and naive, and I thought I was in love. We were for a while, and then I found out I was pregnant. He seemed happy at first, but that changed about three months in. I haven't seen or heard from him since and I prefer it that way. It sucks that Cody won't know his father, but he's probably better off."

"So you've been pretty much on your own this whole time?" I ask quietly.

"Pretty much," she confirms. "My dad tries to help out when he can, babysitting when he has a free weekend or just moral support. And when my mom died shortly before Cody was born, she left a bit of money to me that I have in savings. And I've got Shannon, of course."

I nod. "Still, I can't imagine it's been easy on you," I comment sympathetically.

"I guess it hasn't, but it is what it is. While what few friends I have spend their Fridays and Saturdays partying and hooking up, I spend it watching cartoons and trying not to trip over toys. I was never really the partying type anyway, so it's not like I'm missing out on too much."

"And you haven't dated at all since Cody was born?" I ask.

Ana looks up at me in amusement having seen right through my attempt at nonchalance. "A couple times," she answers, shrugging. "The longest was about four months."

"What happened?"

She sighs. "I'm not really sure, to be honest. We got along well enough, he seemed to like Cody, and Cody liked him. I suppose he just didn't want to deal with everything that goes along with dating a girl with a small child." After a fortifying sip of wine, she speaks again. "With everything I've been through, it's become difficult for me to trust people and their intentions. I tend to get defensive and overprotective, particularly when it comes to anyone who might spend time with my son. I don't expect a long term commitment from anybody, but I'd rather know early on if Cody is a deal breaker. It saves time for everyone involved."

Well, that cut right to the chase. I think through what she's just told me and try to analyze whether the nervousness in her expression is because she expects me to walk away now or even stay. I can see her point; it's her responsibility to protect her son and make him happy. That's any parent's responsibility, I suppose. I wonder if my birth mother ever had the same sort of instinct that Ana does; if she had, I may have turned out very differently.

"I can't say that I have much experience with children," I tell her slowly. "And certainly not in this context. But I understand completely that he is your number one priority. I don't know if Cody will like me or if we'll get along, but I do know that I want to get to know you, so I'm willing to take the leap if you are."

I'm not sure what it says that she looks astonished; clearly she didn't expect me to say any of that. And truthfully, neither did I. "Okay, then," she whispers after a few moments. "I guess this means we leap."

And I don't know why, but that statement makes me feel ten feet tall and happier than anything has in a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

I'm not great with notes, but I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story. I love that you are all enjoying. In case you're wondering, there will be some drama coming up in the next few chapters, but my intention is for this to be an happily ever after story. I hope you will all continue to read! Thank you!

* * *

Following dinner, Ana and I decide to take advantage of the warm night and go for a walk. After our conversation, a barrier seemed to come down between us and the rest of our meal was much more relaxed. She smiled, really smiled, multiple times and it instantly made me feel something that was both comforting and terrifying. She has a beautiful smile and her laugh... Well, even if this relationship doesn't go past this one date, I know both will haunt me for weeks to come.

"I owe you an apology," Ana says suddenly as we walk along Elliott Bay.

I manage not to trip over my feet in surprise and minor panic at her words. "What do you mean?" I ask with trepidation.

She stops and leans against a railing, playing with her fingers and chewing at her lip. I swallow hard against the reflex to lean in and do the same thing. "The other night when you came to my apartment," she explains. "I realize I might have been a little rude. I know you didn't intentionally stand me up on that double date Shannon and Elliot arranged; you were just as in the dark as I was. So... I'm sorry."

The smile on my face is one of relief; here I thought she was about to say she'd decided the two of us seeing each other wasn't a good idea after all. "You don't have to apologize for that. That's just what happens when my brother tries to 'help' out a situation and sticks his nose where it doesn't belong."

"Mmm," she hums in agreement. "I'm sure their intentions were good."

I chuckle. "For Shannon, maybe. Elliot, though... He's spent years trying to figure me out. He seems to think because I'm not like him, I'm missing out on something in life."

Ana cocks her head to the side and studies me. "And are you?" she asks curiously.

For a moment, I contemplate my response. Elliot and I are almost polar opposites. He spent his twenties going from woman to woman. Maybe it was because he was looking for something or he just enjoyed the variety. As far as I know, he wasn't ever looking for anything long term or permanent, and he's seemed perfectly happy. Whereas I have been with as many if not more women than he has and those arrangements always felt fulfilling enough for me at the time. Looking back on them now, they were distractions more than anything. Distractions from my work or my nightmares, something to break the monotony.

Now, though, I can almost see the draw Elliot has to his sort of lifestyle. Sitting across the table from a woman, getting to know her, looking her in the eyes during conversation... My past relationships feel forced now. There were strings and expectations. They would have said or done anything I asked to get what they wanted. With Ana, that's not the case. I don't know what to expect with her and as much as I tend to despise the unknown, I'm enjoying it.

"Maybe," I mutter, taking a few steps towards her.

She stands up straighter, her eyes wide as I approach. I know what I want to happen next and I'm searching her expression for signs that show whether she wants it, too. One brief glance to my lips is enough for me. I lean in slowly, my eyes locked on hers, and the moment our lips touch, I'm gone. Far from being a first kiss for either of us, that's how it feels. Her lips are soft, but not hesitant as I suspected they might be. One hand travels up her arm to cup the back of her neck so I can tilt her head back a little for a better angle. In response, her hand comes to rest on my hip while the other travels up into my hair. I wait for the usual anxiety to creep up whenever someone touches me, particularly someone who doesn't know _where_ to touch me to keep away the darkness, but it never comes. That in itself should give me pause and cause me to wonder why; instead, I deepen our kiss until I have her pressed against the railing. Were we anywhere else, there wouldn't be much stopping me from taking this kiss even further. I suspect, however, Ana isn't one to approve of public sex.

I pull back so we can catch our breath, resting my head against hers. "Wow," I breathe.

She nods dazedly, her eyes opening to look up at me. I can see the amazement I feel reflected back at me. Whatever this is between us, she feels it, too. "Yeah, wow," she whispers back.

With the moon shining across the water as back light, she looks gorgeous with her wide eyes and flushed skin. I could stand here looking at her all night. But I shake myself, reminding myself where I am and who I am. Aside from this not being how I do things, ever, I doubt Ana would appreciate getting her picture in some news rag with me pressed up against her like this.

"Shall we?" I ask, holding my hand out. She takes it immediately and we continue our walk.

Eventually I have to face reality and we make our way back to the car. We've been walking and chatting for more than an hour and I've never felt this content with another person. I even break my own protocol and willingly share information with her about myself. Nothing that will chase her away, of course, but I think she gets the impression that my history with women isn't what most would consider normal and it doesn't seem to bother her which I find promising. She talks a lot about her son, mentioning he has lasting health problems, but otherwise is a normal little boy who likes to run around and cause trouble. It's clear how deeply she loves him and that she would do anything for him.

"Before Cody, when I was in college, I wanted to go into publishing or something to do with books, and I'd still like to do that, but now, after working at the bakery, I think that's what I want to do. Shannon and I talked about it all the time—opening our own place, preferably near the one where I worked so we could put George, the owner, out of business."

I chuckle at the mischief in her tone. "Wouldn't have thought you to be the vindictive type," I tease.

She smiles. "I'm not, typically, but George wouldn't know what to do on his own. Most of the recipes and popular items are mine or Shannon's. Without us, he's got a second-rate donut shop."

Of course, one of my first thoughts is to find premises to open a bakery and equip it with everything needed to make it successful for her. She'd never go for it, though; I may not know her well, but I know that much.

As we pull up in front of Ana's building, my good mood evaporates slightly. I don't want this to end. In order to drag the evening on a little longer, I offer to walk her to her door. Once there, she digs through her purse for her keys, but doesn't seem in any hurry to go inside.

"I had a good time tonight," I tell her softly as she leans against her door.

She smiles. "Me, too."

"You sound surprised," I tease.

With a breathy laugh, she looks up at me. "I suppose I am a little," she admits. "I wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but it was a wonderful evening."

I nod. "Yes, it was," I murmur.

Unable to resist the urge to be closer to her, I take a step forward and she looks at me with those wide, beseeching eyes from before. Placing my hand on the back of her neck, I lean down to kiss her again, this time slowly and with more certainty. It's the sort of kiss that could very easily lead to the shedding of clothes on the way to the bedroom. Perhaps she senses that: she reluctantly pulls away, averting her gaze.

"Would you like to come in?" she asks shyly.

 _Hell yes_. "Another time, perhaps?" I say apologetically. She looks surprised at my denial and disappointed, then a little uncertain as though she's wondering if the reason I said no is because of her. "It will give me reason to see you again."

She smiles slowly at that. "I suppose I could find time in my schedule for that," she says.

I chuckle. "Good." I kiss her once more and back away so she can get into her apartment. I'm still tempted to follow her inside, especially when she looks back at me over her shoulder with an expression that tells me that is exactly what she wants. But I refrain. "Good night, Anastasia."

"Good night, Christian."

I turn to walk away, and just like the last time I visited her apartment, I feel her gaze on me the whole way.

* * *

In the days following my date with Ana, I've spent most of my time distracted whether it be during a business meeting, a workout, or dinner with my parents and siblings. My mother even went as far as to check my temperature because she was worried I might be getting sick. Elliot spent the entire dinner smirking at me and making comments about the possible reasons I wasn't behaving like myself. I managed to ignore him and enjoy having my little secret. Ana had a point about not announcing to our friends that we went on a date; it means we have more freedom to get to know one another without outside interference. Besides, once Ana really gets to know me, it will be easier when she tells me to fuck off if nobody else is invested in this with us.

Ana and I have been texting back and forth since Sunday when I sent a message telling her once again that I enjoyed our evening. She's more forthright over the phone, more open. I've smiled more in the last few days than I have in months and those I deal with on a daily basis are starting to notice. Ros is a little concerned for my sanity, I think, but she hasn't said anything.

I want to see her again as soon as possible. Unfortunately, my week doesn't allow for personal social time. Aside from meetings that cannot be postponed or canceled, two benefit dinners for causes my company supports, and a trip to New York this weekend, I don't know when I'll be able to make time. This is another reason normal relationships aren't a good idea for someone like me. They take time that I simply don't have. I'm sure there is a way to balance all the different things in my life—people do it all the time. I only hope Ana doesn't change her mind.

By Thursday I'm going out of my mind. I keep replaying our kiss during our walk and the one at her apartment door. I want to experience that again, over and over, and do much more with her. Typically, I wouldn't put off taking her to bed, particularly with how much I want her and fantasize about it. Subconsciously, though, I seem to have decided to wait until I know she's ready. I want her to trust me and to not think I only want one thing from her. Either that, or I'm procrastinating because I know it would be monumentally fucked up to take her to bed without making her aware of who and what she's getting involved with.

And that's where I run into a brick wall every time. That is why I'm currently standing in my playroom leaning against the door and taking the whole thing in. I'm trying to see this all from an outsider's point of view, specifically Ana's. I've never had a relationship with a woman not into BDSM so I've never had to worry about the reactions to this room or anything I do here.

I recall the first time I laid eyes on Elena Lincoln's playroom when I was fifteen. I didn't know what to think or what I should do. Part of me wanted to turn tail and run as fast and far as I could. But the rest of me saw an opportunity to get past my hangups and finally get laid. Ana doesn't have any of the issues I had that drew me to this lifestyle. I know she wouldn't want to be my submissive and I'm not sure I would want her to be, either. She's just too...

I shake my head, unable to come up with a word. There is no way I can keep this from her. If we're to have any sort of relationship, she must know.

"Fuck," I mutter, my good mood this week is rapidly fading away.

My phone chimes as I leave and lock the playroom, and I pull it from my pocket, smiling at the sight of Ana's name as she replies to my recent text message asking what her plans are this weekend. She's going to see her stepfather in the hospital in Portland. So even if I wasn't going to New York, I still wouldn't see her.

Before I can respond, Ros emails to let me know our dinner meeting tomorrow evening with a client has been canceled due to a family emergency. Rather than my usual reaction of annoyance, I find myself relieved and already making plans to fill the evening. Without hesitation, I reply to Ana's text, asking whether she's free for dinner and wait with baited breath for a response.

I see her message before my phone alerts me. My smile grows when she says she's free. I tell her I'll pick her up at six, then make reservations at an Italian restaurant that recently opened up that I've been meaning to try. Even over text message I can tell she's eager. Good. I haven't scared her off yet.

Friday is hectic, but my eyes are continually drawn to my watch. It's unheard of for me to leave work early, but that is all I can think about doing. When I do leave, before I even reach the car, Ana calls and suddenly I'm nervous. We haven't actually spoken over the phone; texting is easier for both of us.

"Anastasia," I say, sliding into the back seat. Taylor closes the door behind me. "I'm looking forward to this evening."

She sighs. "That's why I'm calling," she says, subdued. I hold my breath. "I'm really sorry, but I have to cancel tonight. I had a babysitter lined up, but she just called to say she couldn't come. She's got studying or something to do for school."

"Oh," I reply, my body sagging in disappointment. "I see. Well, another time, perhaps?"

She's silent for a moment as though she wants to say something but can't get the words out. "Yeah, another time," she says, and I get the impression she may actually be close to tears. "Um, anyway, I know you're going out of town tomorrow, so travel safely."

"I will," I say hoarsely. "Drive safely to Portland."

We say goodbye and hang up, and my head falls back on the seat, cursing unreliable coeds. This isn't the first time I've had someone cancel plans on me at the last minute. I understand when a submissive tells me something came up that needs their immediate attention. I've canceled on submissives on occasion myself. It's irritating, but it never bothers me to this degree. I wanted to see her. I've wanted to see her since I left her apartment last week; I've looked forward to this all fucking day. Now I get to go home to my empty apartment and probably work all night. Briefly I consider calling to see if Elena wants to have dinner since I already have the reservation, but I don't want to deal with her right now.

No. I want to spend time with Anastasia Steele however I can manage it. And with that thought in mind, an idea begins to form, one that drags me out of my comfort zone, not quite kicking and screaming. I straighten up so suddenly that it startles Taylor.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Grey?" he asks, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

"Yes," I say slowly, still thinking. "Taylor, I need a child-friendly location for dinner this evening, preferably somewhere with games."

Taylor blinks several times; I think I've surprised him and it makes me smile. "Um, yes, sir," he says eventually, his own smile making a rare appearance. "I have just the place."

After a quick trip home to change clothes, I get the details from Taylor on where I'm headed, and make my way down to the garage. I'm nervous again. Dinner with Ana on her own was simple enough to navigate. Dinner with a small child, however...

But I've known from the beginning that this is a package deal if I continue to pursue Ana. At some point, I'll have to spend time with her son and try to get to know him.

As I arrive at Ana's building I suddenly wonder if her canceling this evening isn't because of a lack of babysitter, but because she has had second thoughts. Well, if that is the case, she can tell me in person.

 _Stop with the fucking negative, Grey. Take a chance._

The irony is that I've spent my life taking chances and they don't phase me in the slightest. Of course, those chances are in terms of business, never personal. Swallowing hard, I knock on Ana's door, smiling a little when I hear a playful squeal inside and a laugh I know belongs to Ana.

"Coming!" she calls in a muffled tone.

I take a moment to imagine that word from that voice in a very different setting and my body responds, informing me that it likes that scenario. The locks click and I quickly get my reactions under control.

The door opens and she's there, smiling, then shocked when she recognizes me. "Christian," she breathes, glancing down and blushing at her current attire—pajama pants and a sweatshirt. "Um, hi. What are you doing here?"

I smile, not even a little put off by her clothing. "Well, when you said your babysitter canceled, I was more disappointed than I was prepared for, so I made alternate arrangements." I tilt my head to the side and use my most charming smile. It has the desired effect—she blushes. "If you're still interested in going out, I'd like to take you and Cody to dinner."

She stares at me with a blank expression that I don't know how to respond to and I begin to think she's going to say no, but finally that expression softens and I realize that was the last thing she expected to hear. The smile she gives me is breathtaking and I'm happy I made this decision. "Um, yeah, we would love that," she says shyly, still gracing me with a smile. "Come in."

As I step past her into the apartment, I take the time to inhale her scent—something about it gives me comfort. Because I've been thinking about her all week, replaying our kiss over and over again, I stop once she closes the door behind me and tilt her chin up to press a too brief kiss on her lips. It's not nearly enough for either of us if the look on her face is anything to go by, and it makes me smile knowing she wants more from me.

"I'm... just going to change," she informs me. "Make yourself at home."

She disappears down the hall and I take her offer, stepping into the living room where Cody sits on the floor in front of the television watching some cartoon and plays with a pile of Legos. I smile at the look of intense concentration on his face and decide to sit down beside him on the floor. I can't remember the last time I sat on the floor like this and it's been probably twenty years since I've played with Legos.

"What are you making?" I ask quietly.

Cody looks up at me, realizing I'm here for the first time, and smiles. "It's a helicopter," he announces proudly, showing me the rotor blades over the cockpit, though the proportions are all wrong.

I chuckle. "Can I help?" I ask.

He nods and scoots over a little so I have access to the Lego pile. For a few minutes, we busy ourselves building his helicopter. I refrain from making it an accurate representation of a flyable helicopter, allowing Cody to dictate how it's built.

Behind us, Ana clears her throat and we both turn to look at her. She's changed into a light gray sweater dress that just reaches her knees and a pair of dress boots that come halfway up her legs. Her hair is down framing her face.

"You look lovely," I tell her, pushing up off the floor.

She smiles shyly and looks past me to Cody who has turned back to his toys. "Sweetie, turn off the TV and put your shoes on. We're going out."

I half expect him to object, but he jumps up and switches off the television. Ana and I watch as he wanders around the room looking for his shoes. Once he finds them, he sits down again to pull them on, then grabs his shoelaces, that look of concentration on his face again.

Ana rolls her eyes as she looks back at me. "This could take a while," she warns me. "He's been trying to learn for weeks and he's at the point where he won't let me help him. The other day he managed to tie the laces around his finger."

Hiding my smile, I recall when I learned to tie my shoes. I also refused assistance from my parents, determined that I figure it out on my own. After the third time Cody knots the laces, I gesture at him and address Ana.

"Would you mind if I tried to help?" I offer.

Again, she looks surprised but pleased. "Be my guest," she agrees.

I get back on the floor with Cody and he releases his shoelaces in frustration. "Watch me first," I tell him, slowly tying his laces while he stares avidly at my fingers. Once one shoe is is tied, Cody takes a deep breath and mimics what I did a moment ago perfectly. When his bow is complete, he looks up at me in amazement, quite proud of his achievement.

"Mommy, I did it!" he brags as we both get to our feet again.

Ana's smile is radiant. "Yes, baby, I saw! Good job!" The smile she shoots me tightens my lungs and I can't catch my breath for a second. I'm not sure what that smile is conveying to me, but it frightens me as much as it pleases me.

Before I can analyze it too deeply, I clear my throat. "Shall we?"

Wordlessly, she nods, helping Cody into his jacket. We all walk together out of the apartment and down to the parking lot where Ana stops by her car for Cody's car seat which she quickly and expertly installs in my backseat.

"So where are we headed?" she asks as I pull onto the road.

I smile. "Well, I suspected Cody may not appreciate the fine dining at the restaurant where I originally made reservations for the two of us, so after a recommendation from my head of security who has a daughter a couple years older than Cody, I made other arrangements."

Ana narrows her eyes at me. "What arrangements?" she asks suspiciously, though I think she's teasing.

"You'll see," I say mysteriously.

Now her suspicion looks to be genuine, but she drops the subject. For the rest of the drive, the conversation is light and mostly dictated by Cody, and I find listening to him isn't as grating as I worried it might be.

The place Taylor recommended is one I've actually been to before, only not since I was about twelve and Mia demanded this be where she celebrated her sixth birthday. I remember a couple dozen six-year-olds running around screaming their heads off while they played arcade games. It was a nightmare for my pubescent self and I resented my parents for forcing me to go with them. I don't feel that way this time, though. I've since learned to keep my irritation in check and to at least know how to pretend that I'm having a good time when I'm in a situation when I would rather be anywhere else.

I'm aware there are a number of places similar to this one, but this one is of a higher scale than the others. The food menu is wide in variety, everything is clean and sterilized, and the prizes for winning at the games are quality. Ana and Cody look around in amazement as though they never thought a place like this could ever exist.

"So what do you think?" I ask as we're led to a table in the dining room. It's separated from the game rooms by a glass wall, presumably so parents can keep an eye on their children from their seats.

Ana smiles. "I think your head of security needs a raise for this," she says.

I laugh. "You my be right, Miss Steele," I say as we begin to look through the menu. Most of it is junk food that appeals to young kids and isn't something I typically indulge in, but I think I can make an exception. Once our dinner orders have been placed, I notice Cody is bouncing in his seat, eager to get to the games. I purchase a large amount of tokens required for the games, ignoring Ana's insistence that she can pay for her son's games.

"I believe I asked the two of you out, at the very last minute, so it's only polite that I provide the entertainment," I inform her as Cody runs ahead of us to the games.

Ana and I keep him in our sights and move to the skee-ball tables right beside some race car game he seems to be an expert at. He's barely tall enough to see over the fake steering wheel, but he doesn't allow that to curtail his fun.

"I love skee-ball," Ana says happily.

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Is that so?" I ask challengingly. "I'll have you know, Miss Steele, that I happen to be the Grey family skee-ball champion."

"Really?" she asks, looking me up and down appraisingly. "I could beat you."

I laugh, partly at the level of conviction in her words, and partly at the thoughts her statement brings to mind. "I really doubt that," I tease, eyes darting from her to Cody who is still engrossed with his game. "Shall we test the theory?"

Ana sidles right up to me with a seductive smile that could bring me to my knees and for a second, I think she might kiss me. Instead, she reaches into the cup holding our tokens and takes one, putting it in the machine's coin slot. I stifle a groan when she bends at the waist for her first ball and takes aim. She glances over her shoulder at me, perfectly aware that I'm watching. With expertise, she rolls the ball straight into the hundred point hole. When she does this several times in a row, my confidence is shaken. By now Cody has given up his game and joined us, cheering his mother on. The last ball ends up in the seventy-five point hole, which I assume might be intentional when she straightens up again, grinning smugly at me.

"Wow, look at the tickets, Mommy!" Cody exclaims, retrieving the tickets as they curl on the floor at his feet.

"Impressive, Miss Steele," I murmur, narrowing my eyes at her smirk. When I step up for my turn, I'm so confident that I'll beat her score that I swear there must be something wrong with the lane or perhaps the balls, because I can't land in the hundred point holes. Beside me, I know Ana is shaking in laughter and that is enough for me to not care that I'm losing miserably. I pull the tickets when I finish, handing them to Cody who pats my hand in a consoling manner that makes Ana laugh out loud, particularly when he tells me it's okay to lose to a girl. The scowl I shoot her isn't entirely playful as we make our way back to the table just as our meals arrive.

Over dinner, I realize I've relaxed completely and I can't recall the last time I felt this way. I can't help thinking how normal this feels. Looking around, I see families enjoying themselves, enjoying just being together. The family that raised me did things like this, always including me even though I never felt as though I fit in with them, not really. I did my best to have fun, but those times were never... comfortable for me. I would have preferred staying at home reading, or as I got older, sneaking off to see Elena Lincoln.

That thought gives me pause and I glance at Cody who is humming while he eats chicken tenders and mac and cheese. I couldn't imagine him in the position I was in at age fifteen and a feeling of protection fills me, making me slightly nauseous. I shake off my discomfort when Ana shoots my a curious glance, and smile at her.

More than once this week, I've wondered what Elena would think about Ana and Cody. I'm certain she would give me an earful about what a terrible idea it is to become involved with a woman who is not only not involved in the BDSM lifestyle, but has a young child. She would say I am poison to them and I should leave them before someone gets hurt. She would have a point, I suppose, but I'm far too selfish to simply give this up so soon.

Silently, I make a vow to keep Anastasia and Cody as far from Elena Lincoln has humanly possible.

"Everything okay?" Ana asks concernedly, a tentative hand on my leg.

I smile, burying my thoughts as deeply as I can manage and instead enjoy her touch. "Yeah, of course," I assure her.

She doesn't look entirely convinced, but she lets it go, keeping her hand resting on me. Cody finishes his dinner and starts bouncing again, eager to check out a maze of tunnels that winds all throughout the building above the diners. Ana looks reluctant to let him play, but when she spots the exits have employees keeping an eye on things, she agrees to let him run off and play.

"He'll be fine," I promise her as Cody sheds his shoes and dives into a ball pit.

Reluctantly she agrees, her eyes occasionally darting to where her son plays. "Sorry, I can be a little overprotective," she says.

I smile. "I often have that tendency myself," I offer. "There's no need to be sorry."

She sighs and relaxes, sipping her glass of tea then smiling at me. "So when do you leave tomorrow?" she asks.

"Early," I answer. "We have to be in New York by 10am for a meeting, and we'll need time to prepare, so my plane will probably take off around five in the morning."

Her eyebrows dart up briefly in surprise. " _Your_ plane?"

I chuckle. "My work requires that I travel quite frequently and flying commercially leaves quite a lot to be desired, so yes, I own a plane. A helicopter as well, if you're curious," I add.

Her eyes are wide as she takes in what I've said. Perhaps she hasn't realized the extent of my wealth. Hopefully this won't be an issue. "Well, that is terribly convenient," she says. "Just do yourself a favor and don't mention the helicopter thing to Cody; he'll never stop begging to see it."

Biting back my smile, I turn more towards her. "Perhaps he could come see it some time, maybe even go on a quick flight. It's been a while since I flew her for pure enjoyment."

"You fly?" she asks, her voice jumping an octave or two.

"I do indeed."

She smiles, shaking her head slowly. "There's so much I don't know about you," she says regretfully.

Nodding, I reach down to grab her hand. "I know," I agree. "That goes both ways. And I don't know about you, but I would really like to learn more."

That shy smile of hers is back. "Me, too," she admits in a whisper.

"Good," I respond with my own smile.

Over the next hour we use what's left of the game tokens and Cody cashes in the tickets we've collected for a selection of toys. We load ourselves back into the car and by the time we're on the road, Cody is fast asleep cuddling the stuff monkey he picked out. I glance at Ana to find her looking out the window. I worry about what she's thinking, but there's a small smile on her face as she thinks and I'm reassured.

We reach the apartment and Ana expertly juggles Cody to get at her keys to open the door, whispering for me to come in.

"I'll just get him settled and be right back," she tells me.

I nod and set down everything I'm carrying and check my phone for messages while I wait for Ana to return. By some miracle, there is nothing that requires my immediate attention apart from a message from Ros saying that she'll meet me at the jet in the morning rather than having me pick her up like I usually do because she lives so close to Escala. As I slip my phone back into my pocket, Ana reappears, smiling.

"He might actually sleep through the night instead of waking up at some God awful hour wanting to play," she says. "He had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you, Christian."

I cross the room, placing my hands on her hips. "Is the only one who had a wonderful time?" I ask quietly.

She bites her lip briefly. "Well, I did very much enjoy kicking your ass at skee-ball," she says, fighting laughter.

"Kicking my ass?" I repeat, feigning offense. She looks at me smugly and I can't hold back my smile. "What do I get as a consolation prize, Miss Steele?"

"Hmm," she murmurs, pretending to think and taking a step closer to me until we're toe to toe, pressed against each other. "What would you suggest, Mr. Grey?"

Smirking, I lean down to catch her lips with mine and I'm lost a second later. I feel her fingers slip into my belt loops, holding me closer. My tongue slips into her mouth, moving with hers and she moans, pushing one hand into my hair and tugging lightly. I moan at the feeling; nobody has ever touched me like this, so full of caring. Trying not to overthink this too much, I move us until Ana is pressed against the wall and I'm grinding against her, wanting so much more than this. The way she kisses me, the sounds she makes, she feels the same way, and for a moment, I consider taking her right here, right now. My hands begin to slide up her body, taking in every curve of her body. I want to reach down and pull this dress off of her to see if she looks as perfect as she feels—I suspect she looks better...

But then I remember her son is sleeping just down the hall. It's more effective than a cold shower. I begin to slow down, still unwilling to stop touching her completely. Removing my lips from hers, I rest my forehead against hers to catch my breath. I still can't work out what it is about this woman that I can't get enough of. Every time we're together that feeling only gets stronger and that gives me cause for concern. If it's like this now, before I've taken her to bed and made her mine the way I'm so desperate to do, what will it be like then? And how much worse will that make it after she realizes who she's gotten herself involved with and leaves?

Swallowing hard, I back away as her eyes slowly open and she looks dazed. She sees my frown. "What's wrong?" she asks softly.

I should tell her now. She should know the sort of relationships I had before meeting her and what I have locked up behind a door in my apartment so she would have all the facts to make her own decision. My mouth opens several times to tell her everything, but the words never come out. I shake my head in frustration with myself and smile in what I hope is a reassuring manner.

"Nothing," I whisper, unable to ruin what has been a surprisingly lovely evening. I sigh. "It's getting late, I should go. And you're going to need to get some rest if you're driving to Portland tomorrow. I don't want you falling asleep on the road."

Her brow furrows, a tiny _v_ forming between her eyebrows—she knows something is wrong, that I'm keeping something from her, but thankfully she plays along for now. "Yeah, of course," she says, looking confused at the sudden change in my mood as she walks me to the door. "Thank you for tonight. And for including Cody. Not a lot of people are willing to do that."

I frown. "Well, a lot of people are missing out," I reply smoothly.

She laughs softly and I suspect she may not believe I actually enjoyed myself tonight. Vaguely I wonder what it will take for her to trust me and my intentions, if she ever does. _It would go along way if you told her the truth about yourself._

"And thank you for coming in afterwards this time," she says teasingly.

I grin. "Somebody had to carry Cody's toys," I say dismissively. In order to hold me over for this weekend, I kiss her again, memorizing the way her lips mold against mine perfectly. Forcing myself to remember where Cody is, I pull away again, much to both our disappointments. "Drive safely this weekend," I murmur. "And if you need anything, let me know."

She nods, though I doubt she's at the point where she would call if she needed something. "Fly safely to New York," she replies, now looking hesitant before speaking again. "Will I see you next week?"

I smile widely, relieved that I haven't yet fucked this up. "Well, I'll have to check my calendar," I tease, "but I imagine I can fit you in at some point."

Her eyes narrow to hide her amusement. "Maybe this time I could make you dinner instead of us going out," she offers.

"I'd like that," I say softly.

Reluctant as we both are for me to leave, I manage to force myself to step out of the apartment door after kissing her one last time. On my drive home, I realize it won't be much longer before my secrets bite me in the ass and ruin what could be something amazing in my life. I have to tell her, and soon, before my self control cracks and the need to fuck her takes over. My only hope is that she will at least be open minded enough that I don't scare her off immediately.


	7. Chapter 7

New York is a shit-show. During early negotiations, terms were discussed and agreed upon to everyone's satisfaction. In person, however, the client has decided the terms GEH has set were too steep and they weren't getting what they wanted out of the deal. It's taken all weekend and a lot of persuasion on my and Ros's parts, but we've reached a new agreement. I'm paying more than I was willing to in the beginning, but I'm also getting more out of the deal than I anticipated. In return, GEH has agreed to retain most of the staff pending a review of their personnel files.

I've been frustrated every moment since leaving Seattle. If I'm not dealing with the bullshit in New York, I'm thinking about Ana and how I'm going to tell her the truth about myself in a way that she won't run away as quickly as she possibly can. The only relief I've had have been my conversations with her in the evenings. We speak candidly but lightly, neither of us wanting to dwell on our weekends. Her father isn't doing well. He's stopped responding to most treatments, his brain activity is slowing down, and they don't seem to know why. I suggested she get a second opinion, even offered to speak to my mother for a recommendation, but she told me she's already gotten a second opinion and his medical insurance won't allow for another doctor to weigh in. And even if they did, his prognosis is not positive. I wanted to tell her that I've taken care of her father's medical bills and I am more than willing to find somebody who can help. I even spoke with my mother and told her everything I know about Ray Steele's case, but even she didn't believe there is much to be done.

Feeling helpless is not something I deal with well—it pisses me off and frustrates me. Ana seems to feel the same way, though she hasn't quite given up hope.

On the lighter side of things, Ana has invited me to have dinner with her at her apartment Monday evening. I accepted immediately and have already ensured I have that time open. I should talk to her then, that way if what I tell her scares the hell out of her, she can kick me out after telling me to fuck off.

I arrived home Sunday evening and went straight to bed, hoping to get a good night's sleep before having to face reality. Unfortunately I don't get my way. I toss and turn for a while, and when I do briefly fall asleep, I wake up suddenly after a round of nightmares. Around three in the morning, I give up and wander into the great room to my piano. But even that doesn't help me relax the way it normally does, I retreat to my study to do some work. When that fails, I get into my running gear and hit the pavement. I don't take my usual route, and run longer and farther than normal. Only when I find myself outside Ana's building do I realize this is where I've wanted to be all along. I know better than to go knock on her door this early in the morning and risk waking both her and Cody.

Knowing I'll see them tonight is comforting enough for now and I continue on my run and the day ahead. My schedule is tedious to say the least, mostly consisting of conference calls or reading whatever I find in my inbox. Even lunch is uninteresting when it arrives. I know what my problem is: I'm worried about what Ana will say or do tonight. It's only been a short time that I've known her, but the thought of losing her is devastating. I really believe it's also inevitable.

Because of this, I've scheduled an appointment with Dr. John Flynn this afternoon. I'm hoping he can, if nothing else, alleviate my concerns or tell me once and for all whether I'm making a mistake.

For the first time in the years I've sat on this green couch, Dr. Flynn is shocked into silence once I've finished telling him what's been going on. I'm not sure how to interpret his expression at first nor when he begins making notes on his notepad. When he looks back up at me, he's amused.

"I see you've packed quite a lot in since I've been away, Christian," he comments, sitting back in his chair and resting one ankle on his knee. "And it seems to me as though you're not so much out of your comfort zone as on another planet with this."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I get it, it's not me," I mutter.

"But it could be," John says. "What's stopping you?"

Taking a deep breath, I begin listing all the reasons I shouldn't be involved with Anastasia Steele. "She doesn't know me," is the biggest one, the one that bothers me the most. "She doesn't know what I've done or what I've been through, and if she does, she'll run and I'll never see her again."

"So tell her about yourself," John promptly replies. "Christian, that's how these things work. Everyone has something in their past they want to keep quiet, something they want to forget. And everyone thinks whatever they have in the closet is the worst thing in the world."

"But in my case, my closet is a room full of implements used in BDSM sex," I remind him. "Most people see those things and immediately think torture chamber, and that anybody who practices it is a freak. You did, when we first met."

John frowns. "That is not true, Christian," he scolds. "Yes, I was surprised, but I accepted your life choices as just that. You're not a freak, as I've told you so many times over the years. Look, my advice to you in regards to this young woman is to be as honest with her as you can. Maybe start small rather than diving right into the details. From what you've said, she seems to be as interested in this relationship as you are. If that is the case, give her a chance to have an open mind. You may be surprised."

Shaking my head, I try to take his advice, however unlikely it seems that he's right. "Even if by some miracle she accepts me for me, I don't see how we can do this long term. I need that control and I need that outlet. At some point, that side of me is going to rear its ugly head and then who the fuck knows what happens. I mean, if it was only Ana and myself, I might be able to work through it, but there is a young child involved here."

Tilting his head to the side, he observes me, something clicking in his mind. "And you're afraid you may harm this child?" he speculates. I don't reply, which answers the question for me. He sighs. "Christian, I have known you for years. While your proclivity for BDSM may lead you to believe you could harm another individual, I don't believe that to be true. The relationships you have had with your submissives have all been consensual. Outside of your playroom, when is the last time you struck another person? Or physically or mentally abused another person?"

I frown, thinking about his question. "When I was a teenager, I suppose," I say slowly. "Before Mrs. Lincoln and I began our affair."

John ignores the second half of my statement for now. "You weren't the first teenager who hit puberty and developed some form of anger towards the world. The testosterone we develop tends to be distributed evenly, but on occasion can all come at once, which understandably exhibits itself in violence or fighting."

"Testosterone?" I repeat flatly. "You're blaming testosterone?"

John chuckles. "In your case, your anger presented at a young age and you carried that with you in your teenage years and in some capacity, into your adulthood. I've never been concerned that you present a danger to society and I don't believe you are capable of hurting, really hurting, anybody. If anything, your sense of protection overrides whatever else you're afraid of. Take your sister Mia for example: you have told me that even as a six-year-old you felt that she needed protection as an infant, because she couldn't defend herself and that you needed to protect her and keep her from harm. Most children that age don't even consider that concept. You still have that instinct."

"So what are you telling me?" I ask impatiently, unwilling to believe his words right now. "That it's not a mistake to continue this relationship? That I won't somehow damage them if it escalates?"

Smiling, John sets aside his notebook. "In my expert opinion as well as being your friend, no, I do not believe it would be a mistake. And I don't see how you could damage them. Even if for some reason you find yourself losing your control, you would be more apt to send them away than risk anything that would harm them."

At the end of our session, I have to admit that I feel slightly better. But it all hinges on how Ana reacts to the truth about me.

"I assume I'll be seeing you this weekend?" John says, walking me out of the office.

I frown, not recalling making a weekend appointment.

He chuckles. "The gala your parents are throwing?" he informs me.

"That's this weekend?" I say, surprised. Normally I keep track of my parents' parties, but I suppose I've been distracted lately. "Yes, I suppose you will," I reply. A thought pops into my mind, one I've never considered before. It would certainly be a first for me. Rather than share this idea with John, I keep it to myself until I can determine whether it could happen at all.

After a stop at home to shower and change, I start to make my way to Ana's apartment, first picking up a couple bottles of wine that should complement whatever Ana plans for dinner. Then its a stop at a local florist. As I return to my car, I notice a small toy store I don't recall ever seeing before and duck inside curiously. I don't know what it is I'm looking for until I actually see it. I smile, asking the cashier to pack it in a gift bag with the same theme as the toy I've selected.

When was the last time I bought a toy? Probably when I was about nine and my parents took my siblings and me to a store to spend the allowance we'd earned at our grandparents' orchard.

 _Another first._

Thankfully, my mood has improved slightly since leaving John's office, mostly, I think, because I'm going to spend an evening with Anastasia. John has always encouraged me to live in the moment and not worry about things out of my control that have yet to come. For once, I'm going to take that advice.

I pull into a spot outside Ana's building, retrieving the things I've brought with me, and make my way across the sidewalk to the door. A car catches my attention. Most of the vehicles that belong to the building's tenants are older and cost about a quarter of what my least expensive car does so the brand new silver BMW M3 sports car stands out like a sore thumb. I don't linger on it, eager to get up to Ana's door.

As I reach the door, a man bursts through it nearly hard enough to break the glass and bumps into my shoulder, nearly causing me to drop the things in my hands. He turns around and glares, telling me to watch where the fuck I'm going. I'd like to take a minute to teach him a few manners, but I'd much rather spend the evening with Ana than in jail for assault. I glance once more over my shoulder to the asshole to find him on his cell phone bitching about someone, his eyes darting up towards the third floor, reaching the BMW, and speeds off. I frown momentarily at the Oregon license plates on the back, following the gaze he had on the third floor and immediately spot Ana's balcony.

Shaking myself, I put the asshole out of my mind as I reach Ana's door. I'm nervous again as I knock. This isn't a conversation I've ever had with anybody but my therapist and it's not exactly dinner conversation or one to be had in the presence of a child, which means I'll have to wait until Cody is tucked into bed. But it has to be done if we're to move forward.

The door opens suddenly and I see a blur of wood coming at my head. I manage to duck and back away. Ana stands in the open doorway, breathing hard, the baseball bat in her hands at the ready. I begin to wonder if she's already been made aware of what I need to speak to her about until the look on her face says just the opposite. Her eyes widen in recognition and she drops the bat behind her in the apartment.

"Oh, my God, Christian!" she gasps. "Shit, I am so sorry! Are you okay?"

I straighten up tentatively, half-expecting some other form of attack. "I'm fine," I say carefully. "What the hell was that?"

She looks embarrassed and apologetic, and I'm reassured that I won't need a trip to the emergency room so early in the evening. "I am so sorry," she says again, stepping back so I can enter the apartment and she closes the door softly behind me. I set down the things I brought with me as she picks up the bat and places it back into a closet. "I thought you were—" She shakes her head and ducks into the kitchen, avoiding my gaze.

I'm not so willing to let the subject drop when someone nearly takes my head off with a baseball bat. "Ana, what's going on?" I ask, leaning against the opening to the kitchen. She slumps, clearly hoping I wouldn't push.

Turning away from where she's buttering garlic bread, she leans on the counter and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "My ex—Cody's father—was just here," she says quietly.

Somehow I'd nearly forgotten the asshole out on the sidewalk. "I think he may have run into me on his way out," I reply. "What happened? Are you okay?"

She nods. "I don't even know how he knew where we live," she explains.

"What did he want?"

She laughs humorlessly. "He wanted to see Cody," she says. "And he wasn't very happy when I told him that wouldn't happen even if Cody were here."

For the first time, I notice the absence of her son.

"We argued, he yelled and threatened, I told him I was going to call the cops, and that if he came back, I'd take his head off," she says simply.

"That explains the baseball bat," I say in an attempt at levity that misses completely. "Did you call the police?"

She nods. "Right before you got here. They should be here soon," she says wearily. "Speaking of which, I need to get something before they arrive." She glances at the food laying out on the counter. "I'm sorry, dinner is going to be delayed."

"Don't worry about it," I murmur as she passes me, grazing my arm. She disappears down the hall and I pull my phone from my pocket, sending a text message to Taylor to inform him of this situation and to look into Ana's ex. Since I've given him and Gail the evening off, I don't expect a response until later.

While I wait, I glance into the oven at the smell of something delicious and see that Ana has prepared lasagna, then open the bottle of red wine to get it breathing, pleased that I chose the best wine to complement lasagna.

Ana returns just as there is a knock on the door. I join her as she opens it and invites in the police officers, quickly informing them I'm not the reason she called. For the next fifteen or so minutes, Ana gives them details on her ex while I listen closely. To my surprise, she provides them with a restraining order that she has had in effect for nearly four years. Once I've given them a detailed description of the asshole's car, including the tag number that I subconsciously memorized, the police assure Ana they will do whatever they can to apprehend him and to call again if he returns. Ana doesn't seem reassured.

When were alone again, Ana slides past me back into the kitchen to continue preparing dinner like nothing has happened. I glance at the restraining order briefly before following her.

"Ana," I say quietly. Her shoulders tense. "What the hell is going on? Why do you have a restraining order against a man you haven't seen in years?"

She pauses in what she's doing as though she's trying to decide what to share with me or even if she should. As much as I want to push her to answer my question, I wait patiently. This is where I find out whether she trusts me or not, and it will give me an idea on how it will go when I tell her what I need to tell her.

Swallowing hard, she turns back to face me. "I told you I hadn't seen Preston since I was three months pregnant—that was true. But that last time wasn't exactly an amicable parting."

I approach her, leaving some room between us in case she needs it. "What happened?" I ask softly.

She gives me a beseeching look, silently asking me to drop it, but when I continue to wait expectantly, she continues. "He showed up at my off-campus apartment at around two in the morning one night. My roommate was out and I assumed it was her and she forgot how her keys work—it wouldn't have been the first time." She cracks a small smile. The corners of my lips lift. "Anyway, when I opened the door, he was there completely shit-faced drunk and probably high on God knows what. He'd already made it clear before then he wanted nothing to do with the baby and I accepted that. I let him in because I didn't want him making a scene in the hallway and risk waking up the entire floor. First, he accused me of getting pregnant intentionally to trap him into marriage. When that didn't get the reaction he wanted, he switched tack and claimed it wasn't his baby anyway, that I'd fucked somebody else—which I hadn't. I never knew him to have a violent temper, so I told him to crash on the couch to sober up. When I turned around to get some bedding from the hall closet, he grabbed me, pinned me against the wall, and tried to kiss me. I bit his lip and shoved him away. That was when he lost it. He broke my nose, blackened both of my eyes, and when I fell backwards trying to get away from him, I hit my head against the corner of a table and cracked my skull."

I stand staring at her in shock, trying to recall if any of this came up in the background check I had done on her. I'm fairly sure it didn't. My blood begins to boil as my temper rises, and I wish I'd taken the time to beat the shit out of the son of a bitch when he'd bumped into me outside. I keep my fury in check; Ana isn't done speaking.

"When I woke up in the hospital, I found out that when Preston stumbled out of the apartment, he left the door open and a neighbor happened to be passing by. She poked her head in to see if everything was okay and when she saw me on the floor, she called 911 and waited with me until the EMTs arrived. A day or so later, Preston's father paid me a visit. He's a big shot lawyer in Portland and the family is very well off. He had a restraining order drawn up for me that said his son couldn't come within a thousand yards of me or the baby once he was born. And he offered me a couple million dollars to sweep the whole thing under the rug and not press charges. I took the restraining order, but not the money and asked him to leave. My father was already pressing charges on my behalf. Preston was arrested, but he barely spent two hours in jail and when his time in court came, he took some bullshit plea deal and his sentence was a thousand hours of community service." She rolls her eyes in disgust. "I didn't see him again. But apparently he showed up after I'd given birth to Cody. My dad stopped him from getting to me and my son, and very nearly got himself arrested for hitting Preston. Hospital security was on his side and told police Preston was the problem, that he was being unruly and disruptive. As far as I know, no one has heard from Preston since, until tonight."

"And you don't know how he found out where you are? Did he know you moved to Seattle, maybe a mutual friend told him?"

She shakes her head. "After I dropped out of school, most of my friends stopped calling and hanging out with me, which was fine. Only a couple of people knew I was moving to Seattle in the first place and they never would have told him."

I look her over carefully. "Did he hurt you tonight?" I ask, my voice dangerously low.

"No," she answers.

"Do you think he'll come back?"

She only looks at me which tells me she suspects he might.

I swallow hard. What I want to do right now is insist that Ana and Cody come to stay with me at Escala, but I have a sinking suspicion that wouldn't go over too well. My other option, the one that might not lead her to chasing me out with a baseball bat, is where I assign a member of my security team to keep an eye on them. But at this moment, the way Ana looks as though she wants to do anything else than continue this discussion, I put those thoughts on hold. At least for tonight she'll be protected with me here. That's enough for now.

Clearing my throat, I look around. "So what's for dinner?" I ask, forcing a genial smile.

Her eyes widen in surprise. "You're staying?" she whispers in shock.

I frown. "Why wouldn't I?"

She exhales sharply. "Because I'm sure you have much more important things to think about than drama going on with a woman you barely know," she mutters uneasily.

It sounds like something I would say to her after telling her the things I intended to this evening. I think, though, at least for tonight, it's better to put that conversation on the backburner. In the back of my mind, I know it's a weak excuse and I'm just procrastinating the inevitable, but I don't think Ana is up for that right now.

"Well," I say sliding up to her, "you barely know me either, but it will take a hell of a lot more than an asshole, abusive ex to scare me off." And in an attempt to get the evening back on track, I lean down and press my lips to her, kissing her slowly until I feel her relax. When we part, she's smiling. "There, that's better."

I plant one last brief kiss on her lips and back up. "So, dinner?" I ask.

She chuckles. "Right... Um, lasagna, garlic bread, and salad. I hope that's okay. I wasn't sure what you might like."

"That's perfect." I look around the apartment again. "Where's Cody?"

Her cheeks pink. "Since our last dinner together wasn't what either of us planned, Cody is having a sleepover at a neighbor's tonight," she says, not quite meeting my gaze.

I smile slowly. "Is that so?" I murmur, considering all the possibilities this presents. Perhaps she sees my gaze darkening because she swallows. Feeling smug, I change the subject. "I brought wine, would you like some?"

"Sure," she says, her voice an octave or two higher than normal.

Smirking, I return to the dining table and Ana brings over two glasses for us. She spots the flowers and the gift bag. "And what's all this?" she asks, smiling.

"Well," I begin picking up the flowers, "these are for you. And the bag is for Cody. It's nothing much, just something I thought he'd like."

"I'm sure he will," she says, looking at the bag as though she's trying to see through it. "Thank you."

I pour each of us a glass while Ana takes the flowers into the kitchen to place them in a vase, then brings them back to the table, placing them right into the center. She admires them for a moment, then throws me another smile when I hand her a glass and returns to the kitchen. I follow along because I want to be near her.

"How can I help?" I ask, looking around at the food on the counter.

"Oh, it's fine, I can handle it," she says, probably assuming I don't have much talent in the cooking world. She's not wrong.

"I'd like to help," I tell her insistently.

Studying me, Ana bites her lip for a moment and nods. "Okay, if you want to get the salad put together, that would be a help."

She points at the counter beside her and the whole vegetables waiting to be made into salad. I begin to second guess my decision to help out when she hands me a knife. I stare at the ingredients. This should be simple. I've seen my mother do this a hundred times. When I continue to stand stock still, I hear a muffled giggle behind me. I turn and narrow my eyes at Ana.

"You have no idea what you're supposed to do, do you?" she asks.

"Not a fucking clue," I admit.

Rolling her eyes, she opens the oven to place the garlic bread beside the lasagna and joins me at the counter. "It's easy," she tells me. And she expertly takes a head of lettuce and transforms it into something much more familiar to my eyes, leaving about half on the cutting board, and hands the knife back to me. "See?"

The challenge in her gaze won't allow me to simply give up, so I take the knife and repeat exactly what she did, though it takes me much longer than it did her. We move on to the onions, peppers, and tomatoes, and by the time we've finished, I've half prepared what looks to be an eatable salad. Ana carefully removes the food from the oven while I carry the salad to the table, then place the hot pads she gestures to so she can put the lasagna down before retrieving the garlic bread.

I pull out her chair for her and sit beside her. Looking at the table spread, it looks as good as any Italian restaurant I've ever eaten at. "This looks wonderful, Anastasia," I tell her softly as she puts salad and bread onto her plate.

As we eat, I begin to rethink the conversation I intended to have with Ana tonight. Given what she's told me and what she had to deal with this evening, it just doesn't feel like the best plan. Actually, I'm slightly relieved not to tell her; ignoring the events upon my arrival, I'm enjoying myself very much and what I have to say will only ruin my good time as well as hers.

 _Excuses,_ _Grey. You're only delaying the inevitable._

The truth is, I want to see how far I can take this relationship. I want to know if I am capable of this kind of relationship. And I'm not interested in trying with somebody else. If this is to happen, it will be with Anastasia Steele. That is assuming I don't fuck it up.

"I wouldn't blame you, you know," Ana says softly.

I look over at her, frowning, wondering if I missed whatever she'd said.

She gives me a wistful smile. "If you were having second thoughts, I mean," she explains. "I wouldn't blame you."

Letting my fork drop to my plate, I reach over to grab her hand. "I'm not having second thoughts," I assure her. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere." I think back to my discussion with Flynn. "And anyway, you're not the only one with skeletons in their closet."

I can see the curiosity written plainly on her face and if she asks what I mean, I'll tell her everything. Her mind is forming the questions, and I brace myself for what will come, but the words never come out. Perhaps like me she decided we've had enough heavy conversation for one evening.

"Yeah, I guess," she finally says, squeezing my fingers before releasing my hand completely so we can return to our meal.

As we chat and finish off the bottle of wine, I hear faint music in the background and wonder if it's been playing all this time. "This is the best meal I've had in a long time, Anastasia. Thank you," I say honestly.

Her smile is shy. "You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

 _I know what I'll enjoy..._ I push away from the table and stand, holding my hand out for hers. Curious, she takes it, and I back us into the living room where I find the stereo playing the music. After turning it up slightly, I pull her into my arms. "Dance with me?" I ask.

"If you insist," she says, smiling.

For a few minutes we move together in perfect sync. She may not be the most coordinated person at first, but she lets me lead and we find our rhythm together. All I can think right now as I look into blue eyes that have the power to both captivate and haunt me is that this feels... right. Having her in my arms, feeling how well we fit together. Finally, I have to admit the one thing I've been trying to avoid thinking, even to myself: I want her. Not just her body, but her mind, her soul, anything she's willing to give me. And that is what simultaneously frightens and entices me—the depth of feeling I've come to develop for a woman I've known just over a month.

As much as I desire to take her right now, I know I can't, despite the fact that she sent her son to a sleepover and my suspicion that sex was on her mind when she planned this evening. Telling her about me isn't enough, either. Words can be misconstrued and make what I have to tell her even worse. No, she has to see for her own eyes and with context. That way she can make a fully informed decision about whether she should walk away from me or not.

 _God, I hope it's not..._

I realize I've stopped dancing. Ana and I are simply standing, holding each other, and the way she looks at me makes me believe she can see everything I'm hiding from her, every dark secret I've kept buried. It's unnerving.

"What's wrong?" she asks quietly, concerned.

I swallow hard, reminding myself that tonight isn't the time to pile onto her stress. So when is a good time? The idea I had in Flynn's office begins to solidify. It's one that I've never considered before, and suddenly, it's what I want more than almost anything.

"Sorry," I say with an apologetic smile. "Lost in my thoughts."

She looks hesitant. "Anything you want to talk about?" she asks tentatively as though she isn't sure she should ask.

"As a matter of fact, yes," I say, my mood improving slightly. Pulling out of her hold, I take her hand and lead her to the couch. We sit, and I can see nervousness in her expression. "I'm not sure how you may feel about this, but my parents are hosting a charity gala this weekend at their house. I typically go alone and leave the first chance I get. I was just wondering if you would like to join me."

And now I'm nervous. This is a big step, a first that I never saw coming and will raise many eyebrows. As far as I know, Ana hasn't yet told anybody that we're dating, or whatever it is we're doing. She may want to continue to keep things quiet.

"Oh," she says, raising her own surprised eyebrows. "Um..."

Her hesitation nearly has me backtracking on my question. "If you don't want to, it's fine," I say quickly. "I should warn you that there would be quite a lot of attention directed towards you for the simple fact that I've never brought a date to a function. There will be staring and probably whispers, and people wanting to know all about you."

"It's not that," she says. "I'm just a little surprised that you would invite me. That, and I don't really have anything to wear that would be appropriate for that sort of thing."

I smile slowly. "Is that all you're worried about? Well, don't worry about the details—they'll work themselves out. And why wouldn't I invite you? Of all the people that attend these parties, I'd rather spend that time with you." It's the truth, and it surprises both of us—I didn't intend to speak aloud.

"Oh," she says again, her voice more breathy than before. "Okay, I'd love to go with you."

Her words don't register in my mind immediately. It's actually the smile on her face that confirms that she accepted my invitation and rather than responding verbally, I lean in, sliding my hand into her hair and kissing her with a sort of desperate gratefulness and appreciation. Before I know it's happening, I have her pressed between myself and the couch. Her fingers are in my hair, twisting and tugging as she wraps one leg around mine and I settle against her, loving the way her hips move against mine. Groaning, I tear my lips from hers and trail hot, soft kisses down her chin, her neck, her exposed shoulder. The sounds coming from her egg me on.

Only when I feel one of her hands reach down and begin to tug at the hem of my shirt do I come to my senses. To the surprise of both of us, my phone begins to vibrate against my hip. Annoyed as I am at the interruption, at least I won't have to come up with some reason why I stopped that has nothing to do with what we need to talk about before the clothes between us come off.

Sighing, I push myself into a sitting position, shooting her an apologetic glance. "If you'll excuse me a moment, I need to fire somebody," I say, my irritation not completely feigned as I reach into my pocket for my phone.

"It's fine," she assures me. "I'll get dinner put away."

I slip out onto her balcony, answering Taylor's call. "Taylor," I greet. "Have something for me?"

"Yes, Mr. Grey, I have a preliminary background check on Miss Steele's ex," he informs me.

I glance over my shoulder into the apartment to ensure Ana is busy. "Give me the summary."

"Preston Wilcox. Born 1987. His father is a successful defense attorney out of Portland—he's been involved in a few high profile cases over the years. Attended University of Washington. Average student. He began dating Miss Steele around 2007. She became pregnant and he started seeing a variety of other young women and that was a catalyst for their breakup. Wilcox was arrested in the winter of '07 for attacking Miss Steele and putting her in the hospital. There is a restraining order in place that seems to have kept him away from her until very recently."

 _Piece of shit..._ "Okay, email me the rest of the background check and see if you can find a way to keep an eye on this son of a bitch. In the meantime, look into hiring a CPO for Miss Steele and her son. For now, keep it as surveillance only unless there is a danger of them being harmed. I'll speak to Miss Steele and let her know of the arrangement. I may not be home until late tonight, so we can touch base in the morning and figure out where to go from here."

"Yes, sir," Taylor agrees. "Also, Miss Bailey has been in contact. It seems your presence is being requested in London. The gentlemen you were in negotiations with are refusing to recognize Miss Bailey's authority in this manner."

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "I'll talk to Ros in the morning as well," I say. "Thanks for the update, Taylor. Have a good evening."

Perfect, more fucking headaches. But I have no intention of letting anybody ruin my evening which has been pretty fucking incredible despite the rough start. I return into the apartment just as Ana is coming out of the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" she asks.

I nod, I can talk to her about security once Taylor has a name for me. "I may have to go to London this week, but apart from that, everything is fine," I promise her. "So what would you like to do now?"

The smoldering look she gives me tells me exactly what she wants to do. "Watch a movie?" she suggests, shrugging.

"Sounds good," I affirm. Anything that will allow me to sit beside her, perhaps to hold her for a few hours sounds perfect to me.

As we settle on the couch again, with her curled into my side and resting her head against my shoulder, I wonder if I've ever been this content to do absolutely nothing. I've managed to buy a few more days before I have to tell Ana the truth. Taking her as my date to my parents' party will be a nice memory that I can look back on later. After the party, I can bring Ana back to Escala with me and do my version of show-and-tell and hope she doesn't run. Looking down at her now as she watches the movie she chose, the thought of her running already hurts. I only hope I can find a way to pick up the pieces once she goes.


	8. Chapter 8

It's not often that I have back-to-back out of town meetings, and typically they don't bother me. This time, however, I would much rather spend my time in a little apartment with Anastasia Steele. As I take my seat in the jet, I smirk, recalling the circumstances I woke to this morning.

 _I'm warmer than usual and I register that my bed feels different than normal. I try to ignore it and go back to sleep; for some reason my pillow smells heavenly. Burying my face deeper into it, I realize suddenly where I am. At some point while watching a movie last night, Ana and I laid down together on the couch, her back to my front, my arms wrapped around her waist. My intention was to stay until the end of the movie and head home to prepare for my trip to London. Clearly we were so comfortable that we fell asleep._

 _I feel as though I should be concerned about spending the night so close to somebody else whose actions I can't control while we sleep. Nobody has ever slept beside me, not once. But this... I could get used to this._

 _Apparently I'm enjoying the current situation a little too much and try to subtly pull back my hips so Ana doesn't wake with my erection digging into her back. Perhaps on Saturday after my parents' party if our conversation goes well enough..._

 _Once my body is back in control, I try to get comfortable again—I'm in no hurry to have this end. Unfortunately Ana begins to stir. She turns in my arms and her sleepy blue eyes open, the beginnings of a smile appearing on her lips._

" _Good morning," I say huskily._

 _She blinks a couple times and her eyes widen in shock. "Morning?" she croaks, looking around._

" _So I assume," I reply playfully. She looks at me cautiously and my amusement abates. "I'm sorry, I didn't intend to fall asleep."_

 _She shakes her head. "No, it's fine," she assures me. "I didn't either."_

 _I debate whether to take advantage of this position. When her eyes dart to my lips, an action I would have missed if I'd dared blink, I make my decision. Our lips touch, and like every other time, the rest of the world disappears. I'm not concerned about work or my forthcoming trip to London, or the threat of Ana's ex causing trouble for her._

 _Shifting so that I'm above her, pressing her into the couch, we lose ourselves for a few minutes until my phone buzzes on the coffee table and ruins the moment._

"Morning, Christian."

I turn away from staring out the window and give Ros a tight smile. "Morning," I reply as she takes the seat across me. It's irrational, but my annoyance from this morning at the interruption from my phone is directed to my second in command. She sent a text to find out when our takeoff was scheduled.

She raises an eyebrow. "Long night?"

Ros has seen me in most of my differing moods over the years. She doesn't take it personally when I shout at her; she is one of the few people who know how to handle me. I can speak plainly around her without worrying about offending her. If there was anybody in the world that I might consider a friend, it's her.

"Something like that," I mutter. "Are we ready for this meeting?"

She rolls her eyes, just as annoyed as I am that we have to make this trip. "We damn well better be," she replies. "I don't mind these trips, but this last minute bullshit because someone drops the ball is getting old. We do have lives."

I chuckle, sharing in her sentiment. "Save that irritation for the boardroom," I advise her. A thought pops into my mind, one I've been thinking about for a few weeks, but never actually discussed with anyone. A nine hour flight might be a good time to bring it up. "Ros, what do you know about bakeries?"

She looks up from whatever she's typing out on her phone and raises an eyebrow. "Bakeries? I know that they smell great, and I know they're terrible for my waistline."

I roll my eyes. "Seriously. In your opinion, do you think a bakery is a good investment?"

As we take off, she stares at me as though she's wondering if I've lost my mind. Definitely a possibility. "I don't know," she answers. "It would depend on the quality of the product, the location of the business, and the staff. Banks are more likely to grant a loan to open small businesses like bakeries, because the return can be high." She frowns at me. "Why are you asking?"

I keep my expression as neutral as possible. "No reason," I say nonchalantly. When Ros narrows her eyes, I give her a smile, then pull out a stack of contracts that I need to review, though I know I'll spend more time thinking about this morning.

 _While Ana puts the finishing touches on our breakfast, I prepare coffee for myself and tea for Ana. I offered to take her and Cody out for breakfast, but she informed me that it is French toast day and Cody wouldn't settle for anything less. Before he returns from his sleepover, I decide to broach the subject of security._

" _I really don't want to overstep my bounds, but after your ex showed up last night, I asked my head of security to look into him."_

 _She pauses in what she's doing and turns to look at me with raised eyebrows. "Why would you do that?" she asks quietly, lowering the spatula she's holding. I wonder if it's so she doesn't throw it at me. "The police are looking into it."_

" _Well, in my experience, the police only have so much leeway in cases like this and with what you told me and what I learned through the background check, it would make me feel better while I'm away if you allowed a member of my security team to keep an eye on things—on you and Cody. He'll remain in the background unless he deems it necessary to intervene. If your ex shows up again, I don't want to risk him hurting you and by the time the police arrive, anything could happen to you. One of my guys can be there to stop that."_

 _She sighs. "I appreciate the concern, Christian. I really do, but I don't think it's necessary."_

 _I can't help the annoyance in my tone. "Ana, the fucker broke your nose while you were pregnant," I bite out. "You can't believe he's just coming around again because he's changed his ways. People like that who hurt other people can't change." It's like a slap to the face, listening to the words as they come out of my mouth. By my own admission, it will never be possible for me to change my behaviors with women, not even for Ana and Cody. I can fight it for a while, but once it's all bottled up, one day it's going to explode and what if I don't restrict myself to the bedroom or the playroom and end up hurting Ana the way her ex did, or worse?_

 _Ana's hand on my arm is like a jolt of electricity through my body. I jump and she pulls away, startled at my reaction. "Sorry," she says rather meekly._

 _I shake my head, shaking away my thoughts as well. "Don't be," I whisper, embarrassed at my reaction. It's the first time I've pulled away from her touch. "Look, I understand this seems ridiculous to you, and maybe it is, but I would feel better if you would just go along with my paranoia while I'm in London. I don't want to take any chances that he could hurt you."_

 _She looks away for a moment, taking a sip of her tea while she thinks. "Okay," she whispers. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to have somebody else keeping an eye on things."_

 _It doesn't escape me that this concession is a difficult one for her to make. Like me, she's accustomed to doing things for herself and not relying on anybody else for her happiness or well-being. I respect and admire that, but at the same time, she deserves to have somebody to lean on, to take some of the weight of the world off of her shoulders. She deserves every good thing the world has to offer. Is there really a possibility that I could be the one to give that to her?_

 _We're just about to sit down and eat when we hear a key in the apartment door lock. For a moment, I wonder if it's her prick of an ex coming back to continue what he started yesterday, but Ana doesn't seem concerned and when the door opens, I relax. Cody bursts into the apartment with a huge smile on his face and rushes to greet his mother, not even registering my presence. I look back towards the door and find Shannon standing just inside, staring at me in surprise. I get the impression Ana didn't mention she'd have company last night. Or perhaps her surprise is because she didn't expect me to still be here this morning._

 _Whatever the reason, I know she'll be filling my brother in on this development at her earliest convenience, but for the moment, she's shaken herself from her shock. "Morning," she says with a big smile as she sits across from me at the table. "Sorry to interrupt, but it's French toast day—best day of the week." Somehow her smile grows. "Saw Cody on the way, so I thought I'd bring him myself."  
_

 _I roll my eyes at her and she laughs, drawing Cody's attention from Ana. His face lights up when he spots me and starts telling me about his night with his friend from down the hall. Ana offers her friend a plate of breakfast, but she declines, suddenly citing that she has to get to work and heads toward the door again. While Cody and I chat, he finds the gift bag I brought for him, tearing through the tissue paper in a second and gasps happily at the little stuffed helicopter inside, Ana walks Shannon out and they spend a few minutes in the hall talking. I assume I am the topic of discussion. Ana returns and doesn't quite meet my eyes as she flushes faintly._

It wasn't long after that that I reluctantly left. I told Ana that Taylor would be in contact with her soon and gave her his number in case anything happened before he got somebody in place to keep an eye on them. After reading the in-depth background check on Ana's ex, I'm glad I pushed to assign security to her and Cody. Preston Wilcox has every negative attribute of the stereotypical privileged rich boy. There have been numerous charges placed against him over the years, before and after Ana, that should have resulted in jail time at the very least, but every time, the charges were either buried or he received a slap on the wrist. Sexual harassment. Domestic abuse. Drunk and disorderly. Violating not only Ana's restraining order, but a handful of others. Compared to some of the girls Wilcox was involved with, Ana got off easily. About a year after Ana, he managed to beat his girlfriend at the time into a coma. She pulled through after a few months, but quickly uprooted her entire life and moved across the country to Maryland.

What I'd really like to know at this point is why he's tracked Ana down after all this time. Is it simply because of their son and he wants to be part of his life or is there something more cynical? I didn't want to say anything to Ana, but this can't have been the first time Wilcox has seen them in years. Perhaps he's been doing his own surveillance on them for a while. Ana and I have been out together in public a few times; was he watching us then?

I recall Ana's concern that her ex's sudden appearance might make me rethink being with her. I'm not; I won't be scared away by some entitled little shitbag who likes to put women in the hospital. It does go a long way to explaining Ana's hesitance and need to state conditions before our first date. I have to proceed carefully with her, more carefully than I thought, or I will fuck this up before it's even really begun.

* * *

Three days into my business trip to London, I'm eager to get back home. Everything here is falling into place just as I hoped it would and the Londoners are practically eating out of my hand. It probably doesn't hurt that the owner of the company I'm trying to acquire is a woman who hasn't made it secret that she is attracted to me. I've never been fool enough to mix business with my private life and I would never take this woman to my bed no matter the circumstances or business benefits I might get from such an arrangement, but I also know how to use the tools in my arsenal to my advantage. A few smiles, a dinner out with drinks, and light flirting is all it's taken. I usually don't think twice about such behavior, but the entire time I was out with her, I was thinking about Ana and I felt guilty, like I'm somehow betraying her. It's a bit ridiculous considering neither of us seems particularly clear about what it is we are to each other. I want her. I think she wants me. I enjoy spending time with her and her son and wish to continue doing so. I suppose the word girlfriend might apply to her, but it's such a foreign concept for me that I'm reluctant to think too much about it. It's not a bad concept, I'm discovering; in fact, I rather like it.

At this point, however, all I can do is bide my time until I get home. Ana wanted to take things slow for a while, though I think that got shot out of the sky Monday night when we fell asleep together on the couch. Not to mention that if either of us had just a little less self-control, we would have ended up fucking right then and there. I still have to play this carefully because I have the feeling that it won't take much to scare Ana away from me for her son's benefit. I can't let that happen.

Last night, I spoke to my mother and she reminded me about the party this weekend. Hesitant as I was to say it out loud, I had to tell Grace that I would be bringing along a date. She was thrilled, even more so when I told her that Ana is my date and that we'd been seeing each other for a couple weeks. At one point, it sounded as though she was getting a bit choked up over the whole thing, though I don't know why. I feel a little bad for dragging Ana to Bellevue this weekend; she'll be ambushed by my entire family and draw the attention of everyone else in attendance who have never seen me with a woman. From what I've learned of her, she's very shy and prefers to remain in the shadows rather than being in the spotlight. Naturally, I'll do whatever necessary to make her feel comfortable, but I can't deny that I'll probably enjoy having her on my arm and showing her off.

The only hitch in my plans for the weekend comes when my mother mentions Elena may also be at the party. I had every intention of keeping Ana and Elena as far as possible from one another and it seems I've already fucked that up. I don't want Ana tainted with my past and my past includes Elena Lincoln. Given the chance, Elena will corner Ana and try to advise her on having a relationship with me—everything I've expected from the women I've been with over the years. There is no doubt in my mind that Ana would hold her own against anybody, but that doesn't mean I want to throw them in a room together and see what happens. Vaguely I wonder if I could get away with skipping the party and just bring Ana to Escala for dinner and whatever else may happen. But no; I've already told my mother we'd be there and I think for once I would actually enjoy one of these parties with Ana at my side.

I've spoken with her every evening since I left Seattle. Not about anything in particular; we're still getting to know one another and there is much for us to learn. Every time we speak, I find myself on the verge of telling her everything I don't want her to know about me. Honesty is important in a relationship; I'm certain this applies to normal, vanilla relationships as much as it does to BDSM relationships. I have to be just as honest with her as I expect her to be with me. Without going into excruciating detail, I think she gets the gist of my sexual history. I've never had a serious relationship, never had any interest in one. I keep my life private and I like it that way.

She asked what makes her different than other women I've been with over the years and I didn't have an answer for her immediately. I've been wondering the same myself. The only explanation is that she fascinated me from the moment I set eyes on her and I needed to know more about her. And that is true. The more I learn, the more I want to learn. She's strong and smart and sweet and beautiful, even if she doesn't see it herself. A young single mother practically on her own in Seattle who lost her mother years ago and will probably lose the only father she knows before long. I can only imagine what she went through when Cody was born. She's been more forthcoming about the circumstances. Her mother and stepfather were killed in a car accident the night before, and she was driving from Portland

to be with her dad in Montesano. She admits that driving in the state of heightened emotion had been a bad idea. All she remembers of her car accident is sliding off the road into a ditch. The car rolled over a few times, but mercifully, she survived. In order to save both her and her son, they had to take the baby nearly two months early. It was nearly a week before she regained consciousness. She and Cody spent a combined six weeks in the hospital. On top of that she has lived in fear that her ex, Cody's father, would show up after all this time and hurt them or try to take Cody from her.

At least that is something I can control. Restraining orders only work when the person being restrained follows its rules. This asshole doesn't seem to blink an eye about violating it and even if he was arrested, his father would have him released within hours. That is where my security team comes in handy. I insist that they follow the letter of the law whenever possible, but I've got no problem turning a blind eye if the need arises. There are a lot of things I have in common with Jason Taylor and one of those things is not allowing women to be abused. When he first started as my head of security and worked out what happens in that locked room in the upstairs of my penthouse apartment, he was ready to walk.

I'd already come to appreciate the rarity of men like Jason Taylor. For the first time, the only time, I brought him into my study and allowed him to ask whatever questions he needed to ask in order to keep him in my employ. I assured him that everything that happens in my playroom is always safe, sane, and consensual. I have no arrest record for raping and abusing women and I find those who prey on women to be the lowest form of life this world has to offer. By the end of the conversation we'd emptied a bottle of whiskey and agreed to never speak of it again. Taylor may not understand me or the things I do, but he accepts it and will keep my secrets until his dying breath, and probably after that, too. The point is that one of the things we agree on is that Ana's ex is scum on the bottom of our shoes and if he so much as glares in her direction, the security team keeping watch over her will ensure he never gets the opportunity to harm another woman. I don't question his tactics and it's probably better all around if I don't know the whole story. If the situation calls for it, Taylor will take care of the problem. Tempted though I am to do something about it now, I will remain patient and hope the asshole has at least one brain cell to keep him from fucking with Ana and Cody.

I don't know if the distance plays a part in our mutual willingness to share things neither of us likes talking about, but it's actually... therapeutic in a way. Last night we were on the phone for hours, something I've never done before with a woman or anybody else. There has always been something else demanding my precious time. Not now.

Somehow we got on the subject about sex, or at least we talked around it until Ana asked why we haven't gone further than making out on the couch. I think it took her a few beers to actually get there and get the words out, but suddenly it was there, hanging between us. I wasn't sure how to respond to that. I've asked myself the same question. I assured her it had nothing to do with her, that I am very eager to take her to bed. I told her that what she and I have, whatever the connection is between us, is new to me. I don't want to rush into things and risk pushing her away.

I'm not sure, but I think I could hear the smile on the other side of the phone. It hit me then that she wants to be with me despite not knowing me, not knowing the worst of what I'd done. It gives me hope that she might accept me and all my baggage, and we can move forward.

One thing has been decided: Saturday is when it will all happen. I suggested that after the gala, since her babysitter will be at her apartment all night, she and I go back to my place. What happens then will be her call. I've give her a brief summary, show her the playroom, and answer her questions. If she decides to stay, I hope to have her naked and in my bed. If she decides to go... well, I'll respect that and let her live her life.

In the meantime, I have to figure out a way to get past my haphephobia by then. While we were discussing the less disturbing issues I have, Ana admitted that she had noticed that I don't like to be touched in certain areas. Of course she has. I told her I had a rough start in life without getting into the gory details. By Saturday, I'll either need to get over my phobia or force myself to deal with it and find some alternative way to keep her hands off of me. There have been moments, however, when I almost crave her touch. It's yet another effect Ana has on me that I've yet to understand and it's not entirely unwelcome.

Am I fooling myself into thinking this relationship with Ana and Cody will actually work? Even if Elena doesn't tell Ana a thing about me and my past and I can somehow manage to keep my needs in check, at some point, Ana is going to realize I'm not what anyone would call normal. At nearly twenty-eight years old, I still have nightmares like a child. I can't bear to be touched by anybody on half of my body and in order to have sex with a woman, I need the peace of mind of her being tied up to avoid any accidental touch. I'm short-tempered and impatient. There are people, particularly some of my former submissives, who would claim I don't have a heart. I'm not deserving of being loved by my own family let alone a woman I hardly know. I could either be immensely good with Ana or I could have the power to destroy her. I would never do so intentionally, but I know myself; at some point, I'll only end up hurting her and her son.

If I have the ability to care for them at all, I would walk away before I do something I can never take back. But I'm also a selfish man and I may have only known Ana for a few weeks, but I don't want to give her up. It's bad enough imagining her in the arms of her ex knowing he's probably fucked her half a dozen ways; I want to be the one to make her happy and see her smile. I want to be the only man to give her pleasure and I know without a doubt that I could do things to her he could never even imagine.

It's more than the idea of fucking her, though, and that is what surprises me. I enjoy talking to her, sitting beside her, hearing her laugh. I want to be around her at all times, however ridiculous and impossible such a thing would be. I must find some way to make things work between us because I fear losing her would hurt more than anything I have ever experienced.

* * *

Saturday night has finally arrived and I'm surprised at how nervous I am in regards to the evening's plans. I don't want to pressure Ana into anything, but at the same time, I'm almost desperate to get her into my bed. I would prefer to just skip this fucking party and take her back to Escala right now, but I think anticipation will make everything more enjoyable for the both of us. Besides, my understanding is that she has spent this whole day with Shannon getting ready and I wouldn't want her efforts to be for naught.

Though I've hardly slept all week—between constantly working and grudgingly schmoozing with those I was doing business with and thinking about Ana, and then my usual nightmares, the only thing keeping me awake at the moment is constant consumption of coffee. But the closer I get to Ana's apartment, the more awake I begin to feel, and as I reach her door, I find myself relaxing and even manage a sincere smile as the door opens. That smile slips when I lay eyes on the person who answered the door.

"What are you doing here?" I ask suspiciously.

Elliot only smirks, looking half-dressed in his tux for the evening. "Came over this morning with Shannon and I've been keeping the kid company while those two do whatever it is girls do before things like this," he answers, stepping back. "We thought we could all drive to Mom and Dad's together."

That would put a slight crimp in my plans, but I can improvise and come up with an alternative. "I suppose that makes sense," I say grudgingly, nodding at the bow tie hanging loose around my brother's neck. "Still have trouble with those?"

Elliot rolls his eyes. "I fucking hate them," he whispers emphatically, glancing into the living room where I can just see Cody on the floor coloring. "What's the fucking point? Women have one thing to put on; why do we have to deal with these things?"

Snorting a laugh, I shake my head, standing in front of Elliot and tying his tie for him. It always amazed me that he is so good at so many things, but something simple like a bow tie trips him up. "There," I say when I finish. "You might even be able to pass for civilized tonight."

Smirking again, Elliot gestures into the kitchen. "I brought beer if you're interested," he says. "I make it a point not to arrive at one of these parties sober if I can help it."

"Yes, I recall that," I say, walking past him into the living room. "I also recall that incident a few years back when you got yourself so drunk you nearly singlehandedly took down the marquee while it was full of people." Elliot opens his mouth to retort, but I'm not yet finished giving him shit. I'll probably regret this at some point this evening, but it's still worth it. "Or there was the year you came home from college after spending a semester drinking and discovering the effects of marijuana—I still regret not having a camera on hand when you came back from the bathroom and forgot to tuck yourself back into your pants."

Elliot shudders at the memory. "I thought Mom and Dad were going to kill me," he says. "But it cured my curiosity regarding recreational drugs."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "If that were true, you wouldn't be drinking."

He raises an eyebrow right back at me. "That's rich coming from you," he says pointedly. "Who was it who snuck out when he was fourteen and got so wasted that when he finally came home in the middle of the night Mom and Dad were waiting to tear him a new one only to have him puke all over Mom's favorite foyer rug? Oh right, you."

"Yes, and when was the last time you saw me shit-faced?" I ask him.

He begins to respond, probably with another story of my less than perfect adolescence, but Cody comes running in before he can open his mouth. After I'm greeted enthusiastically and I see Elliot's open shock when I bend to give the little boy a hug, we're dragged into the living room where he's got piles of Legos scattered on the floor. I don't think my brother has seen me interact with any child for more than a second and certainly not so enthusiastically. At some point this evening, I'm certain he'll corner me and ask what the fuck is going on with me, but for now I'll enjoy the look of befuddlement in his expression; even Elliot wouldn't discuss adult subjects in front of a child.

It doesn't even occur to me that I'm in a suit that costs several thousand dollars, yet I'm playing on the floor like I do this all the time. And I don't realize how much time has passed until Elliot's attention on whatever the hell it is he's building wanes and I notice him looking over my shoulder. With that look on his face, he'll be drooling any second now...

I turn to look behind me and immediately discover the source of his distraction. Ana and Shannon are standing in the short hallway leading to the bedrooms and seem to have been doing so for a while. The first thing I note is the look in Ana's eyes as she watches me playing with her son—it's as though she can't quite believe I'm here or that she's realizing my interest in her son is genuine rather than my attempt to get on her good side. The next thing I notice is that this is the first time I've seen her made up like this. Her normally straight brown hair has a few curls around the edges as it hangs down around her shoulders. She's wearing make-up—just enough to enhance her eyes and give her cheeks and lips a bit of color. And her dress... Well, let's just say that if we didn't have an audience, she wouldn't be wearing it for much longer.

The longer I stare, the more self-conscious she seems to become. Elliot kicks me in the shin to snap me out of my daze and I remember my manners, pushing myself to my feet. I don't miss how Ana looks me up and down the same way I am her and I'm relieved to see the look of desire in her eyes. We may not know each other as well as I'd like and I'm still convinced she will run a dozen miles when she does find out about me, but she genuinely seems to enjoy what little she has learned about me so far.

"You look lovely, Anastasia," I murmur, closing the distance between us. She looks up at me through her hair and bites her lip against a smile. Despite the fact that we're being watched like hawks and I can practically feel the glee washing off my brother in waves, I can't resist bending down enough to press my lips gently to her cheek. Anything more and we won't make it to Bellevue.

"Thank you," she says quietly, flushing. I'm not sure if it's because of Elliot and Shannon or because of the compliment I paid her. She looks me up and down quickly. "You look..." I raise an expectant eyebrow as she searches for whatever word she's looking for. "Lovely as well."

I chuckle. There are worse things to be called and I've probably been called them all. I force myself to turn my attention back to everyone else. "Shall we?" I ask.

Before anyone can answer, there is a knock on the door and Ana goes to answer it. I assume the young brunette woman wearing a t-shirt that is about three sizes too small and amplifies her breast region is the babysitter. For everyone's sake, I really hope she doesn't have any intention of calling Ana home in the middle of the night for whatever reason college coeds come up with to get out of work; if she does, I couldn't be certain of my reaction or that she doesn't mysteriously fail all of her college courses for the interruption.

While Ana gives the girl the rundown of the evening and quietly tells her she'll be gone all night—she shoots me a brief glance that I return with a small smirk—Elliot seems to decide this is as good a time as any to give me shit. "All night, huh?" he asks in a teasing whisper. Shannon is standing nearby and rolls her eyes at me; I wonder vaguely how many times she tried to convince him to not give me shit about Ana. Clearly it didn't work. "And just what will the two of you be doing all night? Playing Scrabble?"

I shoot him a withering glare. "Fuck off, Elliot," I mutter. For Ana's sake, I really hope he confines his stupid jokes to when she's out of earshot; I don't want to do anything to make her feel uncomfortable tonight.

Ana and the babysitter walk past us towards where Cody is playing and I roll my eyes as the latter eyes me speculatively, leaving me in little doubt that keeping an eye on Ana's son for the night isn't the foremost thing on her mind right at this moment.

After everyone says good night to Cody, we head downstairs and pile into the SUV. Annoying as he is, I'm glad for Elliot's presence this evening—and Shannon's. Without them, I get the impression Ana would be too busy over thinking everything to relax. Or perhaps that's me. With them here, however, the four of us laugh and joke, and Elliot and I exchange our typical brotherly banter which consists mostly of insults while the girls listen to us with amusement. It works; by the time we pull into my parents' driveway, Ana is relaxed and laughing along with us. I'm relieved, though I know her insecurity is only hiding for the time being and my job this evening is to put her at ease which means I'll need to remain by her side at all times to ensure she's comfortable. Somehow I don't think this will be a harrowing task for me.

The four of us unload from the SUV and Elliot and Shannon lead the way to the front door. I link my arm with Ana's and look down at her, smiling when I see the naked fear in her expression and her teeth worrying her bottom lip. I manage to stifle a groan and the desire to drag her to the nearest private spot so I can rip off her dress several hours ahead of schedule.

"Don't be nervous," I whisper, leaning over to press my lips to the top of her head. My nostrils are invaded with the scent of her perfume and her natural Ana smell. "You look absolutely beautiful, Anastasia. It's an honor and a privilege to have you on my arm this evening."

She stumbles slightly and I pretend not to notice, inwardly smirking at her reaction to my words. We catch up with Elliot and Shannon, and Ana looks grateful and confused and amazed as she smiles up at me. I wink back.

"There you are!"

My mother is standing at the door beaming at us, though I think her attention is more focused on Ana and me than Elliot and Shannon. Although I told her I would be bringing Ana this evening, I don't think she quite believed me, not that I can blame her. Until recently, none of my family has ever seen me with a woman and I imagine the subject will be a popular one amongst the party guests tonight. Ana will be under scrutiny which won't help her insecurity. Perhaps I should have thought this through a little more. Well, it's too late now.

"Ana, you look beautiful," my mother gushes, pulling Ana into a huge hug. "We're so glad you could make it."

Already the attention she's receiving is making her flush, but in a good way, I think. I do enjoy the color in her cheeks and neck; it makes me wonder how much more of her turns pink... Shaking myself, I greet my mother and she directs us through the house out back to where the marquee has taken over the backyard.

"I have no idea what to expect from things like this," Ana admits in a whisper.

I smile down at her. "Well, there will be a lot of people flashing around large amounts of cash in support of tonight's cause along with what can typically be expected to be a mediocre dinner, though my parents go all out. There will be a band and music and dancing followed by fireworks at the end of the night." Though I'm speaking of literal fireworks being shot off over the water, I'm thinking of the potential, metaphorical fireworks that may occur between Ana and me in my apartment later. Judging by the look in her eyes, she's reading my mind and she doesn't seem put off by my thoughts. "All in all," I continue, my voice slightly more hoarse than before, "these things are usually very boring, but I suspect I'll actually enjoy this one."

She always seems so surprised when I say things like this as though she can't quite believe she's hearing me correctly or that she doesn't feel deserving of such words. I wonder how much of that goes back to her piece of shit ex-boyfriend. I almost want to meet the guy just so I can break his nose not only for Ana's lack of self-confidence, but for putting her in the hospital while she was pregnant. As it is, I have no qualms spending however long it takes trying to convince her she's worthy of compliments and being treated like the beauty she is. If I have it my way, she will be spoiled for however long she'll allow it. And I hope that is for a long time.

Upon our arrival, we find our table and on the way, I'm slowed down as always while people who hope to do business with me jump from their chairs to greet me. This is why I so dislike these functions; I can't just sit and enjoy myself like Elliot can. There is always an ulterior motive lurking just out of sight waiting to ambush me. I hold tight to Ana's hand through every pointless conversation knowing she feels out of place and I don't know whether to be relieved or pissed off when most people don't even acknowledge her presence.

"Sorry about that," I mutter to her as we're finally allowed to join our table. Elliot and Shannon are already seated along with Mia and the poor soul who is her date tonight. Mia is great; I love her to death and would do absolutely anything for her, but her track record with guys isn't great. She can be overwhelming to the unsuspecting young man who thinks she's just another spoiled little rich girl they can take advantage of. Mia may have stomped her little foot against martial arts when my mother insisted she learn, but she can defend herself against nearly any threat. Then again, if needed, Elliot and I wouldn't hesitate to find whatever asshole hurt her and ensure he was never found. Tonight's victim seems harmless enough and already overwhelmed by the force of Hurricane Mia, but I don't miss his eyes tracking Ana's movements as I pull out a chair for her. I shoot him a glare and he has the decency to flush with embarrassment and turn away.

"You seem very popular," Ana says teasingly as I sit beside her.

I roll my eyes. "You'd think I'd actually be allowed to get settled before they start pouncing," I murmur. "But enough of them..." I once again take a moment to just look at her. It comes as no surprise that beautiful as she is, she is even more so in a gown and all made up. Suddenly it occurs to me that this is the first time in five days that we've been together; my eagerness for this party to end grows.

"I missed you this week," she blurts out quietly, looking around the table to check if we have enough privacy for a conversation.

A stupid grin starts to grow on my face at her words. It's a relief to hear; Ana is such a difficult person to read and she's so cautious about how much she allows other people to see of her that I wasn't certain she feels the same for me that I do for her. I'm still not certain just how deeply I care for her and I'm trying not to think too much of it. I spent this whole week thinking about her, missing her, and now she's telling me she did the same.

"I missed you, too," I say quietly, taking the chances on drawing an audience to lean in and briefly kiss her lips. "I've been looking forward to getting home much more than I normally do; this evening couldn't come quickly enough."

"I know the feeling," she says quietly. For a moment, we're suspended in time, just staring at one another as though we're trying to determine exactly what it is we've become to each other. I thought a lot about it this week and the only word I can come up with to describe our relationship is that she's my girlfriend. An alien concept for sure, but surprisingly pleasing nonetheless. Perhaps I'll ask her later.

Before long, the fundraiser begins in earnest and after my father gives his introductory speech about Coping Together, the MC takes over and wait staff seemingly appears out of nowhere to fill the guests' glasses with wine. My parents join us just before dinner is served and it's clear that everybody present immediately likes Ana, which comes as a surprising relief to me. It seems I was worried about her hitting it off with my family, something I've never needed to be concerned about before. I never would have brought one of my submissives to my parents' home or introduced them to Elliot or Mia. I suppose it helps a little that my mother at least knows Ana and her son through her medical practice and all the functions she's arranged for her patients.

As the evening goes on and Ana relaxes even further, I start to see another side of her. I knew she was fun and smart and sweet, but she has a natural charm about her that she tends to hide behind her shy disposition. There is a bit of talk about Cody, which seems to be the subject she's most comfortable with, though when I join a conversation with my father and one of the partners at his law practice, Ana is happily chatting with Shannon and my sister about something. I tune back in and decipher that they're talking about bakeries. She and Shannon are telling Mia about their dream to open a business of their own and I'm surprised at my sister's interest on the topic. Surprisingly, Mia is a talented baker in her own right. She's made birthday cakes for the family from the time our mother deemed her old enough to touch the stove and they've become more elaborate every year. From the sound of it, the three women are plotting going into business together which should probably worry me to some degree, but the look on Ana's face is pure happiness. She's talking about her passion and her entire expression lights up as she speaks. I enjoy looking at Ana like this, so carefree.

Watching her, however, I remind myself that I'm not being entirely honest with her. She's never hidden a thing from me, but tonight we'll be in my apartment, just downstairs from a certain locked room that would probably have her running for the fucking hills. And how pissed off and hurt will she be if I take her to my bed tonight and fuck her or make love to her or whatever term applies, then she finds out what I've been keeping from her? She'll never speak to me again.

I can't let that happen. I have to come clean to her. Tonight. Before bed. At least that way she'll be fully informed and can make her own decision about what to do about it. It's the smart thing to do, the _right_ thing to do, so why am I dreading it so thoroughly?

Setting aside all the nerves and fears I'm not accustomed to, I force myself to enjoy myself. I was right; having Ana with me makes it far more enjoyable than it ever is for me. I'm doing what Elliot has been trying to get me to do all our lives—act my age. I'm laughing and smiling, and I've caught my parents watching Ana and me in wonder as we interact. When I take her out to the dance floor and pull her close to me, I swear I can hear my entire family gasping in shock and for a second, I worry that my elderly grandparents might actually fall over dead from heart attacks. Ana notices as we dance and asks me about it.

I shrug. "They've never seen me with a girl," I admit grudgingly. "I've never introduced them to anyone I'd been seeing, never had the inclination, and I think this is all a bit novel for them."

She smirks, briefly biting her lip. I stifle my groan. "Well, I did hear a rumor from Elliot that you preferred the company of men," she teases, her eyes dancing in amusement. "Perhaps that's why they're so amazed."

I'm going to kill Elliot.

However hard I try to remain serious and intimidating, I crack a grin and laugh. Coming from anybody else, I'd be pissed off, but it turns out Ana has a strange way of making me see the humor in things. "That must be it," I agree, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "I take it from your grin that you don't believe it?"

"I'm reserving judgment," she says airily.

It's my turn to smirk. "Baby, I could take you out to the boathouse right now and give you all the proof you need."

Her mouth drops open; she's scandalized. And for some reason I'm ridiculously pleased with myself. I worry briefly that I may have offended her, but she cracks a smile and giggles. I love that sound.

We dance silently for a few minutes while the rest of the world fades into the background. "So is this whole event as torturous as you feared?" I murmur, leaning down to press my nose to her hair.

Shaking her head, she smiles. "No. I'm enjoying myself. Thank you for inviting me," she murmurs shyly.

"It's my pleasure, Ana," I reply honestly. The night is progressing quicker than I anticipated it would, so before we return to our table or are interrupted, I need to solidify our plans for the rest of the night. "I haven't had the chance to ask, but I suppose I should before the end of the party..." I glance briefly around to check that no one is eavesdropping. "Are we still planning on spending the night together?" It surprises me how eager I am for her answer to this question.

Her shyness returns as she looks up at me through her hair. "Unless you've decided you don't want to," she says hesitantly, "that was the plan I had in mind."

I don't think I've ever smiled so widely in my entire life. "I have definitely not changed my mind," I assure her. "It's all I've thought about while I was away." Well, that and all her possible reactions to finding out what I typically do to girls who look like her. "I wasn't sure if you changed your mind..." Why do I sound so fucking uncertain like some nervous teenager? It's fucking pathetic... Then again, I think it goes a long way to reassure Ana for some reason. I'll take what I can get at this point.

Opening my mouth to speak again, something at the marquee entrance catches my attention and I feel my entire body tense up.

Fuck.

Elena.

 _Fuck_.

And she's got her eyes locked on Ana and me, a little smirk on her lips. Well, this is just fucking great...


	9. Chapter 9

Since the age of fifteen, there has only been one person in my life who knows me better than I know myself at times. Elena showed me a path to a relatively normal life, one in which I am the one with the power, the one in control. Even after we ended our six-year arrangement, I still confided in her about all manner of things from business to my family to my submissives. For a time, she helped me choose a new submissive and never hesitated to give her opinion on prospective women. Over the years, more than once, I happened to be someplace with my submissive and we ran into Elena; my submissives always knew enough that they never spoke out of turn, never commented on Elena's presence.

But now, with Ana, the last thing I want is to deal with Elena Lincoln. I'm certain she will have plenty to say on the subject of me involving myself with a woman not in the BDSM scene and a small child. She'll try to talk me out of it all in the name of friendship and concern. I'd forgotten that Elena was supposed to attend the party tonight; it's not often she shows up late. I don't want Elena anywhere near Ana and definitely not Cody. If Ana were aware of my relationship with Elena, I'm sure she would agree.

"Are you okay?" Ana asks, studying my inscrutable expression carefully. She probably thinks she's done or said something wrong.

I force myself to relax. "Yes, I'm fine," I answer softly, even managing a smile. "I just spotted somebody I wasn't expecting to see. Don't worry about it."

She frowns minutely, but doesn't push the subject thankfully.

"Shall we sit?" I ask in as light a tone as I can muster.

Ana agrees and we return to our seats where I refill our wine. Glancing around, Elena is on the other side of the marquee talking with my parents, her eyes darting towards me sporadically. I sigh, turning back to Ana. "So it seems you've hit it off with my sister," I say, sliding my arm along the back of her chair and allowing my fingers to trace the skin above her dress. I smile at the little bumps I cause and her shiver; she likes me touching her as much as I like doing it. And in a matter of hours, I'll be free to touch all of her. Or so I hope.

"She's sweet," Ana replies a little breathily. It takes me a moment to remember we're talking about Mia. "Exuberant is the word that comes to mind."

I chuckle. "Yes, that has been used to describe Mia," I say wryly. "We've also used annoying and grating and will-someone-please-shut-her-up on occasion."

Ana laughs, causing my smile to widen. It's a beautiful sound one that I want to hear as often as possible. "I like her," she says, bumping her shoulder against mine lightly. "She has you wrapped around her little finger."

I snort. "Yes, I'm well aware," I mutter. "There aren't a lot of people who can get away with the things she does around me, but she can and she does. I've always had a soft spot for her."

I can still remember the day Grace and Carrick brought Mia home and how fascinated I was with her from the first second. To that point, I'd kept my new family at arm's length because even at that young age, I didn't feel as though I fit in even though they tried everything to make me one of them. Grace and Carrick for the most part treated me as they did Elliot, though they still proceeded with caution. Elliot was a typical boy, bouncing off the walls at all hours and I think for a while he resented all the attention our parents gave me. We got into some pretty good fights on occasion and it wasn't until middle school that we actually began tolerating one another's company. But with Mia, her love and trust for me were immediate and I never worried that she might hurt me, and that endeared her to me for life. She was so small and fragile, and I knew she would need protection. These days, she can handle herself, but she always knows that she can come to me for whatever she needs. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to hear in the near future that she needs my help securing premises for a bakery. Naturally, I'll pretend she's only a pain in my ass, but of course she'll get whatever she wants from me and if it somehow helps Anastasia realize her dream of opening her own business, so much the better for all of us.

"Christian, how nice to see you."

My eyes close slowly at the sound of Elena's voice directly behind me. Knowing her, she was lying in wait until I let my guard down to pounce; well, she succeeded... "Elena," I say stiffly, turning towards her. "I didn't realize you'd be here."

"Oh, you know how it is," she says dismissively, her eyes not so subtly raking over Ana. "Last minute plans for the evening fell through, so I figured I might as well make an appearance. It's a nice turnout this year."

"Yes, it is," I respond automatically. Given the way Elena and Ana are eyeing each other, and the way the latter is looking between Elena and me, Ana is suspicious.

"Elena, have you met Christian's friend Ana?" Grace pops up out of nowhere smiling at the three of us as though this whole situation is absolutely normal when it's anything but.

"I was just about to introduce them, Mother," I say tightly, trying to keep things light and friendly, though I wouldn't be surprised if my mother picks up on the tension immediately. Every so often, I get the feeling she knows there is more to my friendship with Elena than knowing her for most of my life and being her business partner. She'll never guess the exact nature of our relationship, thank God, but the less questions she has the better.

"Ana, I've heard a lot about you from Grace," Elena says pleasantly, reaching around me to shake Ana's hand. I try not to visibly bristle at the contact between them. It's almost as though Elena is somehow tainting Ana and I really don't like it.

I clear my throat, sitting up and forcing Elena to relinquish her hold on Ana. "Anastasia Steele, this is Elena Lincoln. She's an old friend of my mother's." Glancing up at Elena, I catch the faintest twitching of Elena's lips at my reference to her. "Elena, this is Anastasia."

If it were up to me, that would be the end of the whole scene, but I can't make a big deal of this in front of my mother, Ana, and all these people who are opening their wallets for a good cause. Elena, my mother, and Ana talk briefly, though Ana doesn't seem the least bit interested in continuing the conversation; good, I'd rather they not get all friendly with one another... I wonder vaguely if Ana's reaction is because she senses how uncomfortable I am in this situation. Whatever the case, Grace and Elena are greeted from some other women in their social circle and leave us to our devices.

I wait for Ana to start questioning me about Elena, but she doesn't. I admire her self-restraint; if the roles were reversed and some guy was talking to Ana the way Elena was talking to me, I'd be all over that in a second. The way I see it, I have two options right now: I can let this whole thing drop and add it to the pile of things I'm keeping from her or I can be as open as I dare surrounded by my parents' guests and my family.

"Elena and my mother are old friends," I tell Ana again. "I've known her since I was a kid. In the last five years or so, we became business partners—Elena runs a chain of beauty salons and I manage the business side of it."

Ana nods slowly, taking in this information. "From the way she looks at you, she wants a bit more than your business advice."

If I didn't know any better, I'd say Ana sounds a little jealous. I like that. I like that very much. "Well, I can assure you the feeling is not mutual," I say honestly, leaning closer to her. "There is only one woman I've looked at for the last month or so. All others pale in comparison."

For a second, I think she actually considers looking around for the woman I'm talking about until she realizes it's her and she flushes deeply. "Is that so?" she asks shyly.

"Indeed it is, Miss Steele," I murmur. "You're the most beautiful woman here tonight." I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should say what I'm really thinking, then decide I should. After all, if tonight goes well, she'll be hearing these things from me much more often. "In fact, I am very much looking forward to taking you home with me to find out if you're just as gorgeous out of this dress as you are in it. I'm betting yes."

She turns to me and for the first time, I can see everything she is thinking and feeling written plainly in her expression and body language. Her eyes widen and darken with what I believe is desire and her breathing is shallower. Instinct is telling me to grab her by the arm, drag her up to the house and my bedroom, and take her right this second, but I can't. I've been thinking about this for too long to just rush into things. Thankfully the end of the fundraiser is approaching.

We dance and mingle a while longer before the fireworks begin and I take Ana's hand to lead her down to the waterfront, draping my suit jacket around her shoulders when I see her shiver. Once we're in position, I don't hesitate to pull her to stand in front of me, wrapping her in my arms and she seems perfectly happy to be here. This feels good, being with her like this where I can inhale her sweet scent and feel how perfectly she fits against me. I note faintly that she's pressed right up against my chest, her head on my shoulder and I'm not suffering from my typical panic attack. I wonder how tonight is going to work if I have to keep her from touching me. I'm sure there are solutions and by the time we reach Escala, I'll probably come up with something. She's avoided touching my no-go zones so far and since telling her about my haphephobia, I know she'll respect my boundaries. We'll work something out. We have to.

When the fireworks begin our eyes shoot upwards, but it's not long before I'm looking down for Ana's reaction. She's got a huge smile on her face and her eyes are lit up with the different colors shooting into the sky.

"Cody would have loved this," Ana comments with a slight wistful tone as we follow the crowd towards the front of the house where the cars are parked. Taylor already has the Audi pulled up and waiting for us.

"Well, the Fourth of July is coming up," I say, lacing my fingers with Ana's. "These fireworks were great, but they're nothing compared to the show over the Sound. We can take him to see that." There's another surprise for me—so simply and matter-of-factly making plans for more than a month from now that involve Ana's son when a short time ago such things would never even cross my mind.

She seems just as surprised by my declaration, but pleased all the same. We decline invitations from Elliot, Shannon, and Mia to stay a while longer to enjoy the music and flowing liquor and say good night to my parents. I watch in interest as my mother tears up and pulls Ana into a big hug, then makes me promise to bring Ana back soon and to bring Cody, too. Carrick is smiling more widely than I've seen in a while, though I can see a glint in his eye that has me suspicious. I can only imagine how he's looking between Ana and me and seeing the stark differences in the worlds to which we're accustomed. Luckily he's smart enough not to have said anything to me, but I bet there will be a conversation in the near future that will seriously piss me off.

I'm not going to think about that now, though, as I have more important things to ponder and anticipate. Once again, Ana has gone quiet and I'm sure it's because of nerves. She has no idea what to expect walking into my apartment tonight—for that matter, neither do I, yet another novel concept. I suppose I should prepare her somewhat while Taylor drives us back to the penthouse.

"Ana, you know we don't have to do anything you don't want to do," I say softly, reaching across the backseat for her hand. "If you're not ready for this, we can have a few drinks at my place, talk for a while if you want, and we can take you home. It's your call."

She turns to look at me and through the darkness I struggle to read her expression. "I do want this," she whispers so softly that I hardly hear her. "And I'm ready. I just..."

"What?" I ask, squeezing her hand when she trails off.

Sighing, she shakes herself from her thoughts. "It's just been a while since I've done anything like this," she says in a rush, "and, I don't know... This thing between you and me means more to me than anything in my past aside from my son. And to be honest, it's a little frightening. I try to keep attachments to people in my life to a minimum; I've learned there is only a small handful of people I can really count on. Yet hardly any time has passed since I met you and I don't want to mess this up."

She's not saying everything on her mind, but I think I know what's she's omitting. It sounds as though she's in this as much as I am and she's just as nervous about identifying it.

"I feel the same way," I admit in a whisper. For some reason, I feel like I'm laying myself bare right now and yes, it's frightening. "If you haven't figured it out by now, you're blind. I can't stay away from you; I haven't been able to since we first met. This last week has been miserable and the only high points were when I could sit down and call you. You may not be good at this, but I've never _done this_ ," I gesture vaguely between the two of us. "My relationships have been very different in the past and I'm on just as much a learning curve as you are. And for the record, if anyone has the potential to mess this up, it's me."

"What do you mean by that?" she asks suddenly. "You keep talking about past relationships and how different they are from what you and I are, and I've tried to figure that out on my own, but I'm coming up with nothing."

I sigh as Taylor pulls into the underground garage beneath Escala and stops in front of the elevator. "Let's go upstairs, have a glass of wine, and I'll explain everything I can," I say reluctantly. I slide out of the car and hold out my hand for her to take. She doesn't hesitate; I swallow hard at the thought that this might be the last time she does this. Well, I'll take advantage while I still have the chance.

Throughout the elevator ride, I'm too distracted by what is about to happen to properly enjoy the electrical charge that filled the air the moment the doors closed. Vaguely, I imagine pressing her against the elevator wall and having my way with her. I set that off to the side for now. What the hell am I going to say to Ana once we're in my apartment? Should I just tell her everything about my sex life and hope it doesn't freak her out too much? Should I explain the circumstances that led to needing that sort of lifestyle? Do I tell her about Elena?

I feel my eyes widen briefly. No. Not telling her about Elena. Not tonight at least; I think she'll have enough to deal with without throwing that detail in. If she asks, I'll tell her—no lies; I decided that from the beginning. But that brings me back to what else I should tell Ana. Should I show her the playroom? More importantly, will I be able to resist breaking the promise I made to myself that I would not bring her into that part of my life once she's actually in the room? I suddenly doubt my self-restraint.

The moment the elevator doors open on my foyer, I'm out of the elevator like a shot and rush to the kitchen for the bottle of wine I chilled before I left for Ana's apartment hours ago. I'm about halfway across the penthouse before remembering my manners. I turn around and look over my shoulder to find Ana looking wide-eyed around her.

"Welcome to my home," I say softly, returning to her. I place my hands on her hips and pull her towards me, pressing my lips against her forehead.

"It's lovely, Christian," she says. "Big, but lovely."

I snort a laugh. "Big and lovely," I repeat, looking around as well. "I can't say anyone has ever described it that way, but from you, I'll take it as the highest of compliments." I take her hand and tug her towards the kitchen, pulling out a stool at the breakfast bar for her while I retrieve the wine, all the while procrastinating the moment when I have put everything on the line. I can feel her eyes on me the whole time almost as though she knows something big is coming and not what she expected.

Sitting down across from her, I slide her glass to her. "Cheers," I say softly, locking my gaze on hers.

She gives me a small smile, lifting her glass and clinking it against mine. "Cheers," she repeats.

The wine doesn't give me as much courage as I'd hoped it might, but time is running short. "So before anything else, I need to talk to you about something." I hate the way I can no longer look at her, instead focusing on the liquid in my glass. She tenses and her eyes widen with trepidation. "I need to tell you about my past relationships. They weren't what anyone would consider typical and it's something you need to be aware of." She doesn't speak a word; I wonder if she even can. I'm more nervous now, because I'm reminded of how sweet this woman really is and despite all she's been through, how innocent. I'll never be able to explain with any real success of her understanding. It's something she needs to see.

I drain my glass and stand from my stool, holding out my hand for her again. "Come with me," I say quietly. "There's something I want you to see."

As I lead the way to the playroom, I realize this is the first time I have ever shown it to somebody not in the life. When it was built, it was done by contractors who work with elite BDSM clubs around Seattle and with the help of NDAs and fat paychecks, they keep their silence. All the equipment was discreetly ordered via the Internet from sites that specialize in such things. Gail and Taylor have both seen it—Gail cleans in there regularly; Taylor sweeps it for security purposes routinely. Elena has seen it, of course; I wanted her input when it was being designed. Aside from them, only my submissives and I have been in here. Never my family. Never anybody else. Not until now.

I'm trying to force myself to face the fact that sometime in the next ten to fifteen minutes after seeing what is behind this door, Ana will run five miles as fast as possible. Although that is the last thing I want, I can't be selfish about this; I can't force her to stay. And if she does leave, I need to guard myself against whatever the fallout might be. I don't want my reaction to her decision to manipulate her in any way, so I shut myself down and force whatever emotions I feel for her as far back as possible.

When I look down at her, she's looking back and her confusion gives way to uneasiness and I know it's from my own unreadable expression. I clear my throat. "Please keep in mind that you are always free to leave at any point you wish," I remind her as emphatically as I can manage. "Taylor will take you home; you only have to say the word."

She nods slowly. "Open the door," she whispers encouragingly.

I watch her for a few moments before doing as she requested. The door is open and Ana steps inside with me entering behind her and closing the door again. Taking a deep breath, I switch on the light, lean against the wall, and wait. There are times I wish I could read minds—it's something that would come in handy in my career, but right now, I want to be able to read her every thought. I watch as she tenses in shock and looks around, then takes a few more steps into the room, examining every inch of the place. Her eyes miss nothing. She looks at the bed with the red silk sheets and the shackles at each corner, the St. Andrews cross, the wooden chest, the subway grid built into the ceiling, and then the racks on the walls holding the canes and whips and floggers and riding crops. And I can't help myself when I begin imagining her in a dozen positions all over this room and how satisfying it would be to take a flogger to her body to watch her perfect, pale skin turn pink as the blood rushes to the surface.

She still hasn't spoken, still hasn't looked at me and it's been close to fifteen minutes. I sigh; I can't be in here anymore. "Ana, please say something," I say softly, trying not to startle her.

Nevertheless she jumps as though I screamed in her ear, but she finally turns around so I can see her wide blue eyes and her mouth half open as though she wants to speak, but she can't think of the words. "What the hell is this?" she whispers. I flinch at the fear in her tone; I'm sure all this stuff is frightening for someone like her, someone who could never even consider the possibility of being tied up, beaten, and fucked to be something that might actually be enjoyable.

"Let's go have another glass of wine and I'll explain," I reply. "I'm sorry, but having you in this room is, in all honesty, very distracting for me and it looks as though you might need a drink."

I don't miss her hesitation and I don't blame her one bit for it, but I hold my hand out until she finally takes it. Sighing in relief, I wrap my fingers around her tiny hand, squeezing with what I hope is reassurance. Back in the kitchen with our glasses refilled, I'm at a loss for words. Should I wait for her to ask questions or should I just start talking?

"So you have a sex dungeon in your apartment," she says quietly, staring into her wine. She speaks so matter-of-factly and I expect to hear her follow up her statement with "let's discuss."

"I prefer to call it a playroom, but I suppose if that's how you want to refer to it..."

She raises an eyebrow at me. "My dad has a playroom in his house for Cody. It's full of toys and games and everything else a little boy could want. What you just showed me," her eyes dart towards the stairs, "not what I have in mind when I hear playroom."

I nod slowly. "Fair enough," I say quietly.

"Is this where you tell me you're some sort of sexual sadist?" she asks, her voice full of sarcasm.

I'm not sure if she wants me to answer that or not even though the description is right on the money. "That room is referred to as a playroom in the BDSM community," I say evenly. "I assume you're at least familiar with the term?" Her eyes are wide again as she manages a tiny nod. "Sadist is a rather..." I look around for the correct word and come up with nothing. "It's a harsh description. I am a Dominant." I try not to wince at the lie; Flynn has been telling me for years that the term sadist is absolute bullshit and not one recognized in the psychiatric world. I'm just parroting him.

"A Dominant?" she repeats slowly. "What does that mean?"

Refilling our glasses for a third time, I think on how to best explain. "It means I covet control in all facets of my life," I begin quietly. "Business, personal, sexual... And when it comes to the sexual aspect, that control is even more important. There is a growing community of people in the scene who enjoy either the domination aspect or the submissive."

"What does the submissive aspect entail?" It sounds as though she might be a touch interested and I fight the excitement that builds up in me at the possibility.

"Basically, a woman who is submissive hands herself over to her Dominant in all ways. She trusts that he will take care of her."

"He says jump, she does it immediately?" she asks. I wonder vaguely if her wine is making her braver.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," I agree carefully. "She follows a set of rules and if she breaks those rules, she is punished."

She pales. "Is that what the canes and stuff are for?" she asks.

I nod. "Yes," I say quietly.

"Why would anybody want that?" she asks as though she honestly can't imagine it.

"Sometimes it's easier to hand control over to another person than to remain in your own head all the time," I say without thinking. Her eyes widen in surprise at the answer. "People who submit do so because they want to be able to feel something real and they can't necessarily feel that in more conventional ways."

She stares at me for a moment as though she's looking into my soul. That frightens me almost as much as showing her the playroom. "Is this something you want me to do?" she asks nervously, fiddling with her wine glass.

"No," I say firmly. "I'll admit that when I first met you, I entertained the thought briefly, but I do not want you as my submissive."

"Why?"

I blink a few times. Is she asking because she's disappointed? "Because, for one, it's not something I think you would be into," I begin. "For another, to be honest, I began losing interest before we met. It fulfilled something in my life for a long time, but it's empty. It's physically satisfying, but there are no personal connections that last longer than it takes to..." I trail off as her eyes widen steadily the more I say. I flinch. "Sorry... I'm trying to be as honest as I can here. Every relationship I've had since I was fifteen years old has been like this, but since I met you, I don't want that anymore. I don't need it anymore. I'm only telling you all of this because I don't want to lie to you. Having you and Cody in my life these last weeks has been an amazing revelation. I never thought this would be something I'd actually want, but I do, Ana."

She looks overwhelmed, not that I can blame her, but now I'm beginning to wonder if it's all too much. If _I'm_ too much.

I sigh. "I'll understand completely if you want to go home," I say gently, still watching her closely. I hate the tightening in my chest as I speak the words—they are honest, but it's far from what I want to happen. It would kill me if she walked away now. "I realize it's a lot to take in and that it's probably not something you've ever imagined being part of your life. I wouldn't blame you if you decided to leave and never wanted to see me again."

Her eyes are speculative as she watches me and thinks. "Do you want me to leave?" she asks quietly.

I nearly drop my wine glass in surprise at the question. "No, Ana," I say immediately. "That is the last thing I want."

She nods thoughtfully at that once again draining her wine glass. "Why didn't you tell me before?" she asks in a whisper. I can hear the hint of accusation in her voice.

With an apologetic glance, I sigh, again refilling our wine glasses. At this rate we'll be too drunk to do much of anything if she decides to stay. "I've told you before that I've never had _this_ ," I gesture between us, "with anybody before. I never realized how enjoyable it would be to go for a walk around the Sound after dinner out. Or how much fun I could have eating junk food and playing arcade games. Or how fulfilling it could be to curl up on a couch and watch a movie. I've never sat on the phone for hours with one person, just talking." Her gaze softens slightly. "I wanted to tell you so many times. In fact, Monday night when I came to your apartment for dinner I'd planned on telling you everything. But with your ex showing up, I didn't want to overwhelm you anymore. I put it off all this time because I've enjoyed getting to know you more than you can imagine and I was afraid that once you knew, that would all end. And as I just said, that is the last thing I want."

The time it takes for her to think through everything feels like an eternity, but I dare not interrupt. I'm still bracing myself for when she comes to her senses and runs out of here. "This is a lot to take in," she finally says.

I want to smile at her ability for understatement, but I can't even force a smile at this point. "I know," I say apologetically. "Ana, you have to know that I would never do anything to harm you or Cody, not intentionally. I wish I didn't have to tell you about any of this. I wish I could be a more normal man for you. You deserve an uncomplicated life, one I'm not sure I could ever be capable of. The problem is that I don't want to let you go. It's a purely selfish motive on my part, I know that, but I can't help it. I don't want to lose you."

 _Hell of a proclamation, there, Grey..._

Taking a deep breath, and an equally deep drink of her wine, she nods. I watch nervously as she slips off her stool and moves to stand directly in front of me. "Okay, then," she says softly, pushing my glass from my hands and placing one of hers on my cheek while the other slides into my hair. Before I'm fully aware of the situation, she is kissing me and I am immediately lost.

It takes a moment to snap out of my surprise. Once I do, my hands are in her hair, my lips and tongue coaxing their way into her mouth and for a second, I completely forget the conversation we were just having and all my worries about watching her run away from me. Our kiss grows heated and one of my hands slides down her neck to her shoulder to her chest. I smile when she moans against my mouth as her nipples harden against my fingers. My lips leave hers and I trail them down the path forged by my fingers a moment ago. She is pressed right up against me and can no doubt feel exactly how much I'm enjoying our current activities.

But before we lose ourselves too much in the moment, I pull away from her, enjoying the dazed look in her eyes that slowly gives way to confusion. "Are you sure about this, Ana?" I ask breathily. "After what I just told you..."

She places a finger against my lips to stop me from talking. "I won't lie and say it doesn't make me a little uneasy, mostly because I don't understand it or why things are suddenly different for you now, and I'm sure I'll have a hundred questions you won't want to answer later, but right now, yes, Christian, I am sure about this. You seem to really care about us and you have to know I feel the same about you. Most days, you're practically all I can think about and yes, that's scary, but in a good way, I think—"

I know I should let her continue speaking, but I can no longer help myself. She's in my arms again, her hands fisting my hair as I lift her up. I groan when she wraps her legs around my waist and make my way towards my bedroom. It occurs to me this is the first time I've ever had a woman in my room, my own bed, and while that should probably trouble me slightly, I really don't give a shit right now. Even after listening to me tell her one of my darkest secrets, she still told me she cares about me and I'm not stupid; I'm not going to waste this opportunity after spending so long thinking about it, particularly when she's shoving my jacket off my shoulders and kissing me like her life depends on it.

My fingers find the zipper on her dress and slowly pull it down, stepping back so I don't miss a single thing as her body is revealed. From what little I've seen of her to this point, she is flawless save a few minor scars, but really, they only make her more beautiful. She is perfection from head to toes, though right now I'm focused completely on her breasts. From the moment I first set eyes on her, I knew she would be gorgeous, but this far surpasses all my expectations.

I must stare at her for long minutes because she begins shifting from foot to foot as though she's wondering whether I like what I see. Closing the distance between us, I kiss her again, eager to get all our remaining clothing between us off. "You are beautiful, Anastasia," I breathe against her lips, trailing kisses down her chest where I pull her nipple into my mouth through her bra.

She gasps, gripping my arms for balance. "I want to see you," she whispers shyly.

Again, I pull away from her and smile. "As you wish, Miss Steele," I murmur. At some point, she undid my bow tie and dropped it at our feet, so I make quick work of my shirt and pants, smirking when her eyes find my erection eagerly pushing through my boxers. "Lie down, baby..."

With wide, hungry eyes, she backs up to the bed and I help her down before she hurts herself, pushing her to lie on the pillows. I hover over her, kissing every bare inch of skin exposed while her hands find my hips, her fingers slipping into the elastic band. After making quick work of her bra, I take my time teasing her, tasting her, listening to all the sounds she makes when I find a particularly sensitive spot on her body. She's panting and gasping, bucking up into my mouth and hands. I finally find my way to the tops of her thighs and look up to find her pushed up onto her elbows, watching my every move. Smirking, I press my mouth against her panties, inhaling her scent. She smells so good I swear I go cross-eyed.

I am certainly no stranger to women and over the last nearly decade and a half, I've become quite familiar with what they like and more importantly what I like. Despite the whole Dominant/submissive thing, I do enjoy pleasing a woman. She's much more likely to do what I want her to do when she knows what the reward is. Whether it's oral sex or a massage, I know how to get what I want from them. It's all very selfish, of course; I might spend an evening lavishing a woman with my body, but she knows not to expect that every time and certainly not to ask for such treatment.

That's all changing now. I could spend days teasing Ana around the edges of her panties just to listen to her sounds or watch as she gets wetter or feel the way she slides her fingers into my hair, twisting them around almost to the point of pain. It makes me hungrier for her. She has completely soaked through her tiny lace panties, so I do the polite thing and remove them. I smirk at the thought; there is absolutely nothing polite about what I want to do to her and judging by the look in her eyes, she knows it.

Unable to resist, I press my mouth against her warm, wet flesh, loving the way she cries out, tenses, and presses herself further against me. I hold her down by her hips, my tongue circling her clit, all the while I keep my eyes fused on her face. She's fallen back onto the bed and closed her eyes, and dammit, she's biting her lip which only makes me more frenzied. I need to feel her come apart before I'm inside her; I'm not sure I'll be able to control myself once I'm finally there and I want to be able to focus. I slide two fingers inside of her, hooking them against her walls as she clenches around me.

"Fucking hell, you're wet," I say in amazement. I don't think I've ever felt anything so incredible and I have no doubt she'll feel even better around my cock. Between my mouth and fingers working her over, it's only a matter of minutes before she's crying out my name and convulsing through her orgasm. I let her ride it out before crawling up her body, my elbows resting on either side of her head as I lean down to kiss her deeply while she tries to catch her breath.

It's only when I feel her shaking hands pushing my boxers down my legs that I remember I'm not quite finished with her yet. "I want you," she whispers in my ear.

"I want you, too," I reply. "Are you on birth control?"

She nods. "The shot."

More beautiful words have never been spoken. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to deal with condoms tonight, though I was prepared to do so. I kick off my boxers and hover over her again, looking into her eyes for any sign that she may not want to go any further. She gazes up at me with desire and need and something else I can't quite identify. Whatever it is, it makes me nervous and I shove it from my mind, needing to focus on this right here, right now. After a few more kisses, I settle against her, loving how she feels pressed against me. Her hands begin to slide up from my hips to my back and to avoid a panic attack that will undoubtedly ruin the evening, I calmly reach for her hands and hold them above her head, locking our fingers together as I slide into her slowly. I think I could come right this second as I concentrate on the amazing sensations running through her body into mine. We fit together perfectly.

Once I'm completely buried inside her, I stop, pulling back just enough to look at her. She's staring up at me in absolute wonder, like she can't believe we're here like this or that it feels this good. She's echoing my thoughts exactly.

"You feel amazing," I whisper to her, pressing our lips together.

"So do you," she replies, her voice little more than a gasp. "Christian, please move."

I don't think I could deny her anything at this point. Hell, if she asked me to sign over every penny to her, I think I would do it in an instant if it meant I could remain connected with her like this. I spend several minutes moving at a leisurely pace and the only thought in my mind is that nothing has ever felt this amazing or right. I never felt like this with my former submissives and certainly never with Elena, and if the look in her eyes is anything to go by, she's never felt this way either. At the thought, I begin to lose control. Ana wraps her legs around mine and I finally release her hands so I can press mine into the mattress on either side of her head for leverage. She's hardly paying attention to anything else as I thrust hard and fast into her, needing to feel her coming around me. Her head is thrown back, her eyes are closed, and her mouth is slightly open, and I can't remember seeing anything so beautiful in my life.

"Open your eyes, baby," I growl through gritted teeth, rapidly approaching the limit of my control. "I want to see you."

Her eyes snap open and lock onto mine. I'm so lost in her that it takes a moment to realize her hands are splayed on my bare back. I fight against my normal reaction, trying to focus solely on the sensations between us. She must realize something has changed—her brow furrows slightly as though she has forgotten my aversion to being touched and her hands move to my arms, allowing me to concentrate on the job at hand. I try to distract her and show her gratitude all at once by kissing her deeply and pushing us towards release. She's whimpering against my ear, gripping my shoulders to the point that her fingernails are digging into my skin almost to the point of pain—it feels fucking amazing. Our hips snap together rhythmically, our voices mingling as I feel Ana begin to tighten around me. I move faster, harder and it only takes seconds before she explodes, screaming my name as she rides out her orgasm. I follow quickly, burying my face in her neck and moaning her name as I come harder than I have in years.

Once I'm certain my arms will hold my weight, I push myself up enough to kiss Ana slowly, sensually, gratefully. Eventually I pull out of her and drop to the bed, pulling her into my arms. For the first time in my life two things happen to me: I begin to fall asleep almost immediately with a woman in my arms and I begin to think the utterly insane, that I could be falling in love with her.


	10. Chapter 10

I wake suddenly the next morning and my first thought is that the sun is much higher than it usually is when I wake up. My next thought reminds me of the night before and how surreal it was from beginning to end. Just to confirm it actually happened, I look down and see the beautiful woman lying with her back to my chest. I'm amazed at how well I slept last night, not to mention how I never even considered not sharing my bed with Anastasia. I can hardly believe the effect she has had on me since we met. Before then, I never considered the possibility that I could have a relationship with a woman that didn't involve tying them up; I never wanted it. So what is it about this woman that makes me different? I'm not embarrassed to admit it's a little frightening.

But I set that aside as her breathing begins to change and she turns to her back in my arms, her eyes slowly fluttering open. She frowns briefly as though she's uncertain where she is, but a moment later, her eyes meet mine and she smiles shyly.

"Good morning," she says quietly, her voice husky with sleep. It's quite possibly the sexiest thing I've ever heard.

"Good morning, Miss Steele," I murmur, leaning in to press my lips against hers. "How did you sleep?"

She sighs contentedly. "Very well. You?"

I nod slowly, still mentally working through this whole situation. "Yes, I slept very well, too," I murmur, smiling. "This was a first for me."

She raises an eyebrow in slight confusion. "What was?" she asks tentatively.

"Sharing my bed with somebody," I answer, holding her gaze.

Her confusion mounts. "What about your..." She trails off and I don't know if it's because she doesn't want to say the word submissive or if she's searching for another word. "Your exes?"

I shake my head. "They always slept in a bedroom upstairs," I explain carefully. "I have... issues..."

For a moment, I think she might smirk and come out with a smart ass reply, but she simply looks thoughtful. "Issues like the way you don't like people touching your chest or back?"

"Yes, that's part of it," I say warily. "Without going into too much detail at such an early hour, before I was adopted, my life was a nightmare that I still occasionally relive. The touching thing is a result of..." I really don't want to go into this with her, but at the same time, I want nothing more than for her to know me. It's all very confusing. I don't know if it's lucky or not when Ana glances at my chest, her eyes darting between my scars and understanding hits her.

"Oh," she says in a small, sympathetic voice. I wonder vaguely if she's imagining Cody in the same situation I was in as a small child. "I'm sorry you went through that."

I avert my eyes and nod in acknowledgment of her words while trying to ignore what I interpret as pity in her gaze. This is why I don't share my life story with people. I don't want them treating me like I'm a freak or breakable. I got to where I am today on my own merit—I built my company from the ground up, watched it grow and flourish into what it has become, and I will continue to do everything in my power to achieve my dreams. Now, though, my dreams seem to be shifting to include Anastasia, particularly after last night.

"Christian?" she says quietly.

Finally, I meet her eyes again and I'm shocked when I don't see the things in her expression I expected to find. "Sorry," I murmur. "These aren't things I like talking about to people."

She nods in understanding. "Well, in an attempt to salvage what has turned into a thoroughly morose morning, would you like breakfast?" she asks lightly, teasingly.

Just the sight of her biting her lip against a smile is enough to make me forget what we were just talking about. I consider her question for a minute, but am immediately distracted as she squirms beneath the sheet, under which I know for a fact she is completely naked. Rather than answer vocally, I lean in to press my lips to hers in a long, slow kiss. She seems surprised at first, but a moment later, I feel her fingers tentatively making their way into my hair as though she doesn't know if she's allowed to do so.

"I really enjoy your fingers in my hair," I whisper into her ear, pulling the lobe between my lips and making her moan. In response, her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling it almost to the point of pain, and it feels fucking incredible. I move over her, pushing the sheet aside so I can rest my weight on her. "I also enjoy how well we seem to fit together." I run my nose down the column of her neck and she squirms beneath me in an attempt to get me where she and I both want me to be. "It's as though you were made for me, Anastasia."

Reaching down between us, I find her already soaking wet and wanting. Is she like this from last night still or have I turned her on this much already? Not that I actually give a shit about the answer; I'm more concerned about burying myself in her and making her forget the depressing conversation we just had. I don't want her dwelling on it; she's got enough problems in her life without adding mine to the pile. We both have baggage and as overwhelming as it tends to be, perhaps between the two of us, we can find some way to overcome all of it.

* * *

Breakfast was great as was the shared shower that followed, but the moment we reached the garage so I could drive her home, everything suddenly changed and I'm not sure how or why. Ana hasn't said a word to me since I helped her into the car. As I pulled into Sunday morning traffic, I tried coming up with something, anything to break the sudden awkward tension between us and I've got nothing. Every so often I glance over and find her curled up small in her seat staring out the window and replay every interaction we had this morning to figure out where I went wrong. The only blemish since we woke was the brief discussion about my early childhood. Is that what she's thinking about?

I have no idea how to go about asking her not to think about it. Horrendous as it was, it is in the past and I'm working on moving on from it and I do everything within my power not to dwell on it anymore than I must. Perhaps she's thinking this is one detail too much after what I revealed to her last night and she's decided it's just not worth the drama. Dread fills my stomach at the very thought; I've only just begun coming to terms with the idea that I could possibly have what amounts to a normal relationship and I want to explore those possibilities more. I don't want to lose her now, but how can I convince her to stay if she thinks it would be better to leave?

By the time I pull up to the curb outside her apartment building, I still have no answers. I don't want to push her into a relationship with me—well, the rational part of me doesn't—so begging is out, even if I knew how to beg. Seduction is the next tool in my inventory and I know damn well I would succeed, but that would amount to manipulation and if this is to happen between us, I want her with me because that is where _she_ wants to be.

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly, reaching out to touch her hand and admiring her outfit. I asked Taylor to pick up a few things for her so she wasn't returning home wearing the same thing she did last night. Taylor chose well.

Ana nods, turning tome with a forced smile. "Yeah, there is just a lot to process. And I have a lot of questions I want to ask, but I'm not sure I want the answers," she admits. "I want to trust you, and I do. Last night wouldn't have happened if I didn't. I guess what I'm worried about is that you've said you've done this for a while and it's what you know, so what if you decide what you and I have isn't enough? Where does that leave me?"

I swallow hard, her concerns mirroring my own. "Look, I can't explain it, but the pull I feel towards you outweighs everything I've done previously. In all honesty, I don't know what the future holds so I can't say I'll never think about it in terms of you. For so long, it was what I needed to get my life on track and keep it there. It was unconventional and only a handful of people have ever known about it, but is what it is. And I want to keep it in the past. More than anything, though, I want to see where you and I can go from here. I know it won't be perfect and it may not be easy, and I'll probably screw up from time to time, but I want you and you're worth trying for. Just... please trust me and give me a chance. Let all this shit settle and if you still want to ask questions, I am more than willing to answer them." I reach for her hand again, pressing my lips to each of her knuckles. "Whatever you need, whether it's to take things slow or baring my soul to you, just let me know."

She gives me a small smile, but at least it looks genuine. "I think it's a little late to take things slow, Christian," she teases. "But okay, you have your chance. Don't screw it up."

I chuckle. "I'll do my best, Miss Steele," I assure her, leaning in to kiss her. I have to remind myself that we're sitting in a car in broad daylight in front of her apartment, so I push back the desire to escalate the kiss. "Shall I walk you upstairs?"

She takes a deep breath, clearly disappointed that I ended our kiss. "I would say yes, but Cody and I are heading to Portland today to see my dad. And if he sees you, I'll never get him out the door."

"Oh," I say, surprised that she didn't mention this before. I want to offer to take her myself, but the time apart may be best for both of us. "Okay. Call if you need anything."

She nods, reaching for her purse sitting between her feet. "I will," she says. "And thank you for a wonderful evening, Mr. Grey."

My smile widens. "You are most welcome, Miss Steele. I hope we can repeat some aspects from last night very soon."

She raises an eyebrow, giving me a mischievous smile as she opens the door. "Only if you're very lucky," she says seductively. My eyes are wide and I have to shift in my seat as she gets out of my car.

"See you soon, Anastasia." I'm not sure if that's a threat or a promise and I don't think she is either. The last I see of her before she closes the car door is her biting her lip. Before I leave, I watch as she sashays to the building door, and I groan out loud. This woman is going to kill me...

* * *

Later in the evening I deploy my usual distraction techniques in an attempt to get something productive done rather than thinking about Ana all day. It doesn't work. Every time I pause for more than a second, I think about how it felt to have her in my arms while we danced last night, the way her eyes lit up while we watched the fireworks, the sounds she made and how we moved together in bed... Better than all that, though, the way she seems to have accepted one of my biggest secrets. That in itself is a miracle. My concern now is she will have time to think herself out of seeing me again. More than once today, I've been tempted to jump in the car and drive own to Portland to see her at the hospital. Rationality prevailed, thankfully, and I now eagerly await hearing from her.

Taylor outdid himself with his task of assigning security to Ana. I haven't yet met Luke Sawyer, but according to his background check, he's spent the last ten years in the FBI, but left because his last case burned him out. I'm not entirely sure I want to know what that case was about. He and Taylor have been friends for quite a while and Taylor speaks highly of him. At least I can relax knowing Ana will be safe in Portland with him keeping an eye out for her.

All day I've waited to hear from Elliot so he can give me shit about Ana. I imagine Shannon is keeping him in line for the moment, but at some point, he'll show up with that annoying, knowing grin of his and proceed to ask me every inappropriate question he can come up with even though he knows I would never actually answer them. This is what happens when a man's family thinks he's gay or celibate, or possibly both his whole life: the moment that belief changes, they hone in and it consumes them. Not that I'm about to correct their theories; usually I find it amusing the way they never broach the subject. But bringing Ana to the gala last night will have broken down those barriers. I don't care, as long as they don't start their shit in Ana's presence.

There's a brief knock on my study door that jolts me from my thoughts. "Mr. Grey?" Taylor says, poking his head around the door.

"What is it, Taylor?"

He hesitates and I become suspicious. This isn't his normal behavior. "Sir, Mrs. Lincoln in on her way up," he says apologetically.

I sigh heavily. And that's the other thing I've waited on since last night. I lost track of where Elena was

after I was forced to introduce Ana to her, but I doubt she was far and probably saw a lot more than I wanted her to. Better to get this over with now than put it off. "Let her in, Taylor," I say resignedly.

Nodding, Taylor turns and heads towards the elevator to meet Elena. I push myself from my chair and slowly follow, hoping desperately that this doesn't go the way I think it will.

Moments later, Elena is entering my apartment looking perfectly put together as always. She smiles genially when she reaches me, placing her hands on my arms as I lean in mechanically to kiss her cheek. "Elena," I murmur, gesturing for her to head into the great room. "This is a surprise."

"Oh, I was in the area," she says airily. "I thought I'd drop by since we didn't really get a chance to talk last night."

I smile tightly, uncertain what to say.

"Your attention was certainly focused," she says pointedly, leadingly.

"Yes, it was," I agree. "Is there something you needed, Elena, or are you just here to relive highlights from last night?" My tone is impatient and she doesn't miss it.

She narrows her eyes at me, her lips pursed. "What are you doing, Christian?" she asks exasperatedly. "Grace tells me you met this girl at some function for sick children and that you were quite taken with her. You can't tell me that young girl is in the life."

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "No, Elena, she isn't," I say dryly. "And frankly, it's none of your business."

"Really?" she replies, wholly unimpressed with me. "Well, she's certainly got you wrapped around her little finger. You can't even see what's happening, can you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I ask wearily.

Elena rolls her eyes. "Think about it, Christian," she says impatiently. "A young mother who probably makes minimum wage and can barely pay her rent meets an attractive, successful, billionaire businessman who could provide for her and her child. It's practically a cliché, Christian!"

I stare at her dumbfounded for a moment, her words registering in my mind until my expression turns into a mixture of incredulity, horror, and anger. "You think she's using me?" I say loudly, making her jump. "What the fuck is wrong with you? I don't have to defend my decisions to you anymore, Elena. It doesn't matter what you think, but I will tell you this: if you go anywhere near Anastasia or her son, I will not hesitate to liquidate the salons and terminate our business relationship."

Her mouth drops open. "You would throw away a thirteen-year friendship for some girl you've only known a matter of weeks?"

"Yes," I say without hesitation. "Because that 'matter of weeks' has been more fulfilling and genuine than anything you and I have done in thirteen years." The words shock me as much as they shock Elena, but I realize I actually mean them. Being with Ana is the best thing that has ever happened to me—not Elena getting me on the right track rather than dead or in prison; not the success of my company; not anything I've ever achieved in my life.

I take a deep breath and stand up. "I think you should leave now, Elena," I say calmly.

Her eyes flash in annoyance, but I don't give a fuck. "I think you're right," she replies coldly. She rises primly. "I hope you know what you're doing, Christian."

I don't respond, glancing at Taylor lingering near the foyer door to escort Elena out of the apartment. Once she's gone, I drop back onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. That is not how I wanted that conversation to go. Some part of me had hoped Elena would be happy for me as a friend should be for another friend for finding something good in life for the first time. I knew it would be too much to hope for that Ana and Elena would be friends, and I wouldn't want that anyway; I don't want Ana tainted with my old life and Elena is part of that. If there were a way to keep both parts—Elena and Ana, past and present—separate but still in my life, it would be preferable and wouldn't upset the balance of the world. But there isn't. Not if Elena thinks Ana is nothing but a gold digger who will ruin my life. Undoubtedly, Ana wouldn't be particularly impressed by the way Elena fits in my life.

It's a choice I have to make: keep something that has gotten me to this point of my life, giving me the control I've always needed or the woman who in such a short time has changed the way I view the world.

I huff. That's no choice. Anastasia Steele is who I want and I'm done over thinking it. I won't give her up without a fight, no matter what happens. And I will tear apart anybody who gets in our way.

* * *

It's late evening before I hear anything about Anastasia and it's in the form of an update from Sawyer. Ana has spent the day talking with doctors and sitting with her dad while he occupied and entertained Cody. I want to hear Ana's voice for myself, particularly following the drama with Elena this afternoon, but Sawyer says she is preoccupied and upset by whatever prognosis the doctors have given for her father. I don't know whether I should give her space or jump in my car and drive down to Portland to comfort her.

In the end, I decide to give her space, settling on sending her a text message to ask her how her day is going despite knowing through her security exactly how it's going. Even through text, I can sense her sorrow when she tells me Sawyer is driving them back to Seattle. Tempted though I am to be at her apartment when she gets home, I decide against it. She has enough to worry about and my mind is still reeling from my confrontation with Elena. I'm still trying to understand what the hell is going on, why my world has flipped upside down and what it might mean.

I bury myself in work, fine-tuning contracts, and reviewing résumés to replace a department head I fired last week because he failed a random drug test. Once again, the thought crosses my mind that I could solve a lot of Ana's problems by bringing her on at GEH. It would be another first and would break my rule about not fucking the staff, because if she worked in the same building as me, neither of us would get any work done. I let that little fantasy play out in different various scenarios and only return to reality when my phone rings.

"Grey," I answer, grabbing the phone without checking the caller ID and hoping my voice doesn't sound as hoarse as I think it might.

"Christian?" Ana's quiet voice is hesitant.

I sit up straighter, my previous fantasy long gone already. "Ana, what's wrong? Are you okay?" I ask urgently.

She laughs softly. "Yeah, everything is okay. I just got Cody down and Luke went home for the night." I frown at her use of her CPO's first name, but don't call attention to it. "I'm sorry for calling so late, I'm sure you're busy..."

"No, Ana, I'm not busy," I say quickly. "I'm glad you called. I've been thinking about you all day."

I can almost see her surprise. "Have you now?" she asks, then sighs. "I know it's late, and you probably have an early morning ahead of you, but, um, I was wondering if..." She trails off.

"Ana?" I prompt her. "Talk to me."

Another sigh. "Feel free to say no, it's fine, but I was wondering if you could come over?"

It's my turn to be surprised. "Come over?" I repeat.

"You know what, don't worry about it," she says hastily. "Like I said, nothing is wrong..."

"Ana," I say, trying to interrupt her.

"It's just been a long day and I can't sleep..."

"Ana," I try again.

"But I'll be fine..."

I smile, rolling my eyes. "Anastasia," I say, raising my voice slightly to get her attention. "Sit tight, I'm on my way now."

Silence. "Oh," she says, surprised. "Okay, then."

"I'll see you soon."

In record time, I'm arriving at Ana's door, feeling a sense of relief that surprises me. It feels like a weight I didn't even notice has been removed from my shoulders all because I'll see Ana shortly. I forget about Elena and everything else I've been stressed out about. By the time Ana opens the door, I'm smiling. She looks exhausted and like the day has somehow aged her, but she's smiling right back at me, tenuous though it may be.

"Hi," I say quietly, taking in every detail about her. She's in a baggy Mariners sweatshirt and pajama pants.

"Hi," she replies shyly. "Come in."

I do, and once she closes the door behind me, I turn around, slide one hand into her hair and the other rests on her hip as I push her against the door and kiss her deeply, the way I've wanted to all day. She returns the passion, our tongues and bodies moving together as though we've been doing this for years. She moans into my mouth and my lips trail down to her jaw to her neck, the hand in her hair tugging her head to the side for better access. Her fingers tug my hair in return as she tries to get closer to me.

We break apart to catch our breath. My forehead rests against hers, my eyes closed as I try to compose myself.

"I didn't actually plan that," I breathe, smiling.

Her body begins to shake and I open my eyes to find her laughing. "I'm definitely not complaining," she assures me.

With another brief kiss, I back away from her and let her lead me by the hand to the couch. "Do you want a beer?" she asks. "I was going to have one."

"Sure," I reply, watching her every move. She returns, handing me a beer as she curls up on the couch, legs tucked under her as she faces me. "Long day?" I ask in a murmur, reaching over to tuck some hair behind her ear.

She nods. "Very long day," she confirms. "Just being at the hospital all day is draining. Thankfully Luke was there to keep Cody occupied. I don't like letting him see my dad the way he is."

"Does he understand what's happening?" I ask.

Ana shrugs. "He knows his grandpa is sick. And he sees me getting upset about it. But I don't think he realizes the severity of the situation. What really worries me is what I'm going to tell him when the inevitable happens. I mean, he's three years old. He shouldn't even have the concept of death in his mind, let alone understand it." The bitterness in her tone surprises me. She frowns suddenly. "Shit. I'm sorry, Christian. I forgot about your birth mother..."

I shake my head, reaching for her hand. "Don't apologize," I murmur. "You're right. Children that young shouldn't be exposed to death or understand it. I don't think I did until I was older. At the time, all I knew was that I was being taken away from the only family I had and I didn't know why. I pieced it all together eventually and my mom and dad—Grace and Carrick—tried to help me understand. But those circumstances and the ones surrounding your dad are different."

"Maybe," she says. "I try to shield Cody from anything negative, whether it's my dad or _his_ dad... I don't know if telling him now is the right thing to do or if I'm just making things more difficult for the both of us. I can barely come to terms with the fact that I'm going to have to make the decision about whether to let my dad go..."

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I don't know what else to say. "But just remember, whatever happens, I'm here if you need to talk or need a distraction, or anything."

She smiles wistfully. "Thank you," she replies shyly. "And thank you for coming over tonight. I was going to call Shannon, but she and Elliot had plans."

I smirk. "Well, even though I was your second choice, I'm more than happy to sit on your couch and drink your beer if that's what you need."

She giggles and my smile widens. For a few minutes, neither of us speaks, we just look at each other like we're trying to find... I don't know what. Finally she sighs, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "I told him about you," she says matter-of-factly.

I frown. "Who?" I ask.

"My dad."

My frown deepens and she laughs.

"All the nurses... they keep telling me to talk to him like I normally would. Nobody knows if he can even hear anything, but they say it doesn't hurt anything. So today, I told him about you."

I take a sip of my beer. "And what did you tell him?" I ask curiously.

She blushes and I raise my eyebrows, even more interested now. "I told him that I met a guy and that he's nice and sweet, and Cody already adores him. And I said that this guy has been really great to us, and that I really like him," she adds in a rush.

My other eyebrow rises to meet the first. "Is that so?" I murmur. Her blush darkens and she nods slowly. "Well, I have it on very good authority that this guy really likes you, too." And even that may be an understatement.

Ana looks down at her hands still hidden in her sweatshirt sleeves, smiling. She takes a deep breath. "Anyway, I did leave out a few details about you." She pauses, thinking for a moment. "Though in hindsight, the details I left out might bring him out of his coma if for no other reason than to hunt you down."

I think she's teasing, though the concept is amusing. "Then I for one am relieved you didn't tell him," I reply. That would be a new concept—not a man coming out of a coma to kick my ass, but having to deal a girl's parents.

"He'd like you," she says suddenly, and I think it's because she is having difficulty saying whatever she had been trying to say.

"Would he?" I ask.

She nods, again hesitant.

"What is it?" I murmur, hoping to prompt her into speaking.

Sighing, she reaches for her beer—liquid courage?—and drinks deeply for a moment before resting the bottle on her knee and begins playing with the label. "This morning, I told you I had a lot of questions about what you showed me last night."

I freeze, unwilling to even blink. _Shit..._ "Yes, I remember," I say hoarsely. "Ask away, Miss Steele." I wasn't expecting this when I came over tonight.

Her eyebrows rise briefly in surprise. Was she expecting me to shut down her questioning after I promised to answer whatever she wanted to know? "Um, okay..." She pauses, thinking. "How long have you done... whatever it is you do?"

"About twelve years, give or take," I answer.

Brow furrowing, I know she's doing the math. Her eyes widen when she reaches an answer. "So you were... fifteen? Sixteen?" she whispers.

"Fifteen," I confirm.

Blinking, she processes this bit of information. "Okay," she says warily. "You said last night you were a Dominant. Were you always?"

I shake my head. "No," I whisper. "I started out as somebody's submissive. That lasted six years, then I switched."

"Whose submissive were you?" she asks reluctantly.

And this is where it gets complicated. "Somebody older who had been in the life for some time. She seduced me and introduced me to what it is she does."

"How did you even meet her, though?" she asks.

I sigh. "I'd known her most of my life," I say quietly. "She is a friend of my mother's."

"Is?" Ana repeats. "Like, present tense?"

There is a tinge of horror in her tone that makes me uneasy. "Yes," I whisper.

She's thinking again and I'm watching her connect the dots, and the horror grows in her expression. "The woman I met last night?" she says tentatively. My eyes widen in response; I don't know how to respond. "Wow..." She shakes her head in disbelief. "A little forewarning might have been nice," she says, her tone hardening.

"I know," I reply. "When I invited you to the gala, I didn't know she would be there. My mother mentioned it earlier in the week, but by last night with work and everything else, I forgot. She's typically punctual, so if she was going to be there last night, she would have arrived before we did. I didn't give her another thought until I spotted her while you and I were dancing."

Ana drains her beer. "I take it your mother doesn't know," she says derisively.

"No, she doesn't," I answer softly. "Nobody in my family does. In fact, only you, my therapist, and Elena's ex-husband know."

Her eyes widen. "Ex-husband? Were you and she... while she was married?"

I avert my gaze and that's enough answer for Ana.

"Oh," she breathes, standing and grabbing our empty beer bottles. She heads into the kitchen to grab a couple more, and though I want to follow her, to reassure her somehow, I give her space to process everything. Finally she returns, not looking at me as she hands me a new bottle.

I wait for her to say something, anything, even if it's to tell me to get out, but she's staring into her beer. "I should have told you before," I murmur apologetically, repeating my words from last night.

She gives me a half-smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, it's probably for the best that you didn't," she admits. I'm not sure I want her to explain what she means. "Okay, so your mother's friend roped you into this... stuff—no pun intended. And you've done it for a while, so there must be something that attracted you it."

 _Shit._ I know what she's going to ask next and I really don't want her to, but I can't stop her.

"Why?"

I sigh. "That is complicated," I say slowly. "When I was younger, it was the only way I could handle being touched by somebody else, particularly the opposite sex. That time was a nightmare for me and I sought control over whatever I could, and because of that, I was able to avoid a troubled life that would have led me to either prison or a grave."

"So you credit being on the right path to a married woman who took advantage of a teenage boy?" she asks, and I can't tell if she is more disgusted or angry.

"It's more than that," I say quickly, hoping this conversation isn't sabotaging this relationship. But I can't find the words to make her understand. I don't know if they even exist. "Look, Ana, I'm trying to be honest with you, I want to be honest with you. All that stuff I showed you last night, everything I'm telling you now... I don't want to scare you away. You're not like anybody I have ever met. I've never had any sort of real connection with another person, but it's so much more than that, and I don't understand it completely yet. Or at all, really. And there are things about me that if you were exposed to them, if your son were exposed to them, that would be the end. I don't want that, but if you tell me that's what you need, then I'll go."

And that is one of the most difficult things I've ever had to say. I wait with baited breath for her to process our conversation and hope like hell she doesn't push it any further to the point that I'll spill my darkest secrets.

She swallows hard and lets out a shaky sigh, finally meeting my gaze. "I don't want you to go," she breathes, eyes wide and guileless. Hope rises within me. "All these questions, everything you've shared with me, they don't change how I feel about you, Christian. I wanted you to be honest with me and you have been. And you said it yourself last week after Preston was here: we all have skeletons. I can't pretend to understand any of this or even make sense of it, but if it's in the past like you say, then I'm willing to let it go, for now, at least."

It's the best I can hope for and I'm already reaching for her as the smile on my face grows. "That is good news," I say softly before leaning in to kiss her.

But she places her hands on my arms, pushing me away, the softness in her expression exchanged for something that brings back my nerves. "Having said that," she begins, "this... _woman_ who got you into this who is apparently still friends with your mother and you do business with... I want nothing to do with her. I don't want her near me and I don't want her near my son. Not ever. It's not my place to tell you to cut ties with her, but I don't even want to hear about her."

Is that all? I give her an ironic smile. "I assure you, if given the option, you wouldn't have met her last night. As for the future, I don't think that will be much of a problem."

She raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Really?" she says with disbelief.

I only debate for a moment about whether to tell her. "Elena showed up at my apartment earlier today. Following a rather loud conversation, I assured her that if she tried to contact you in any way, I would sever all ties with her, business and otherwise."

"Why would she try to contact me?"

I give her a half-shrug. "Because she thinks it's her responsibility to look after me," I reply. Ana gives me an _oh, really_ look that makes me smile. "And yes, I realize how that sounds. She'll have her reasons. If she becomes a problem, I will handle it"

"Okay, then," she says, smiling and shaking her head. "I'm probably losing my mind, but okay."

I smirk. "Baby, if this is you losing your mind, I'm all for it," I say softly, finally moving in to kiss her.

Before either of is is really aware that it's happening, we're lying on the couch, me pressed into her. We kiss for long, blissful minutes, but when my lips trail down her neck, she yawns, and I pull back, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, am I boring you?" I ask teasingly.

She looks sheepish and apologetic. "No, definitely not," she answers firmly. "But I didn't get much sleep last night for some reason and I suppose it's catching up to me."

I smirk again, pleased by her words and the reminder of last night. "Fair enough," I say, sliding off of her and turning her so her back is against my chest. "Would you like me to leave?" I whisper the words against her ear.

I feel her smile against the arm she's using as a pillow. "Not really," she says sleepily. "Unless you need to."

I shake my head, resting it against hers. "Only place I want to be right now is right here, Miss Steele," I murmur into her hair.

"Hmm," is her contented response. And with that, we once again fall asleep together on her couch.


	11. Chapter 11

The changes that have overcome my life in the last two weeks are so numerous that I can't even keep track of them. Ever since my parents' gala and the talk Ana and I had the next night, something has shifted not only in me but in her as well. Whatever held us back, whether it's what I had been so worried about telling her or her wondering whether to trust me, is long gone. Now we're getting to know one another and it's not always easy, but I've enjoyed every moment of it. I've discovered that Ana and I are both independent, stubborn people, and when those traits are threatened or called into question, we get defensive. So far our arguments have been only over small things that I can't even recall now and are greatly outnumbered by the good moments we've had.

If I'm not working, I'm with Ana and Cody. My weekends are no longer spent in my home study or with a submissive, but on my boat with them and my family or to the Seattle Children's Museum and out for burgers and ice cream afterwards. Ana and I manage to find time alone, and my first foray with vanilla sex has so far been more satisfying than I ever thought possible. Ana has begun to learn where to touch me and what's more, I've begun to notice that very slowly, those no-go areas are becoming smaller.

It's a life I'd never considered, one I never thought I would want, but now it's not something I want to give up. And I don't know who is more surprised by that, me or my family. The first time my mother saw me interacting not only with Ana, but Cody as well, I thought she was having a heart attack. My dad led her below deck on the boat for a while and when she returned, she didn't stop smiling the whole day. I'm not entirely sure what this is supposed to lead to or even where Ana wants it to lead. Right now, I'm enjoying the newness of it all and hoping it lasts. But as Flynn is always so quick to tell me, the more I expect the worse, the more likely it is that I'll make it happen.

But I'll deal with that later.

Right now I have a stack of things to get though this morning, all of which I put aside in favor of the much more satisfying and entertaining text message exchange between Ana and myself. It started innocently enough with me sending her a good morning message and telling her that I missed her last night. I spent the day with them, but Ana grudgingly pushed me out the door after dinner. She has a job interview this morning at a coffee shop not far from GEH. I've tried to hint, subtly and not so subtly, that I could help her find employment, but she shut me down every time insisting this is something she needs to do on her own. I don't particularly like the idea of her with such menial work bringing home paychecks that barely cover rent and food, and whatever else she and Cody may need. In an attempt to help out, I've tried giving her money flat out, sneaking it into her purse when she wasn't looking, and even depositing money straight into her bank account. That last one caused a fight that lasted two days.

On one hand, it's nice to be with a woman who doesn't look at me and only sees dollar signs. It's refreshing and frustrating. I could do so much to help give them a better life if Ana would only allow me. But I can't force her to accept gifts or money from me.

Sighing, I glance at my phone. I haven't heard from her in half an hour which probably means she's in her interview and will message me later. Then again, lunch is quickly coming up. I could head down to the coffee shop and wait for her to finish, and take her somewhere nice to eat. It's one of the few ways she allows me to spoil her so I take advantage of it as often as possible.

Unfortunately, I will have to walk into a meeting shortly with a Seattle-based telecommunications company I'm hoping to bring under the GEH umbrella. I've done business with the owner a number of times and we have a decent business relationship. Today, he's bringing his daughter who recently graduated college and joined her father's company. Hopefully there is actually something behind her eyes that is worth something unlike a lot of other women I've come across in the same position.

Gathering my things, I make my way down the hall, but before I reach the boardroom, Taylor catches up with me.

"Mr. Grey," he says.

"What is it, Taylor?" I ask, tapping out a message to Ros.

"Sir, I just spoke with Luke Sawyer," Taylor says quietly.

I stop immediately, forgetting my meeting and nearly dropping my phone. "Ana and Cody?" I whisper, my heart already racing.

"They're okay," Taylor says quickly, "but Sawyer is driving them to Portland right now. Miss Steele's father passed away this morning."

My eyes close slowly. "Fuck," I breathe. "Is she all right?"

Taylor doesn't have that answer.

I glance into the boardroom where everyone is beginning to assemble. Going in there is not what I want; I want to be with Ana in that car on the way to Portland, comforting her or being whatever she needs right now. "Shit," I whisper as Ros catches up to me. "Get _Charlie Tango_ prepped and ready to leave in an hour. Stay in touch with Sawyer and let me know if Ana needs anything. Let them know I'll be there as soon as I can."

Taylor nods sympathetically. "I'll take care of it, Mr. Grey."

"Everything okay?" Ros asks concernedly, watching Taylor rush off.

"No," I say shortly. "There's a family emergency. We need to get through this meeting quickly; I have to go to Portland."

Ros frowns. "I can take over with Kavanagh if you want," she offers.

I shake my head. "He'll have questions about the numbers Barney put together," I say distractedly, running a hand through my hair. "Let's just do this so I can go."

Nodding, Ros leads the way.

The next hour feels like an eternity between worrying about Ana and dealing with Katherine Kavanagh's probing questions about the deal being negotiated. Under other circumstances, I might find her knowledge of the business impressive, but right now she's just fucking irritating and I can't get out of the room quickly enough. I let Ros deal with finalizing everything and reach the elevator before the door of the boardroom closes all the way.

I try calling Ana on the way to the top of Grey House where my helicopter waits, but it goes to voicemail. Either she doesn't hear the phone or she just doesn't want to talk right now. I leave a message telling her I will be there as soon as I can and to stick with Sawyer, though I doubt he would let her out of his sight right now.

Taylor is waiting with my messenger bag containing my laptop and a change of clothes. "They just arrived at the hospital," Taylor shouts over the engine of the helicopter. "At this point, I don't know how long they will have to be there, but Sawyer knows to expect you. A car will be waiting to take you to the hospital when you arrive."

"Thank you," I say, rushing towards _Charlie Tango's_ doors. "I'll let you know where we're headed next; I'd like you to meet us with one of the other cars—I won't need Sawyer to drive, I don't imagine."

"I'll await your call, Mr. Grey," Taylor says, hand on the door as I hop into the cockpit. "Fly safely, sir." He closes and latches the door behind him and I get settled in my seat, performing all the pre-flight checks.

Once I'm off the ground, I'm calm again. It's not long before my mind returns to Ana and what she might be going through right now. The only death I've ever had to deal with was my birth mother's and that was mostly confusion, fear, and later, anger. I can't imagine how I'll feel if something happens to Carrick or Grace. They've done everything for me, taken care of me, loved me, and the thought of not having them around anymore is painful. But with Ana and her stepfather, the feelings are probably much more defined and deeply rooted.

Finally I'm at the hospital and begin looking around for Ana. I find her sitting alone in a waiting room curled up in a chair, her shoulders shaking. I knock softly on the door and she immediately sits up, wiping her eyes.

"Hey," I say softly, hopefully sympathetically.

She unfolds herself from her seat and practically throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around me and sobbing into my shirt.

Swallowing hard and feeling rudderless, I hold her, moving us to a chair and pulling her into my lap. "I'm so sorry, Ana," I whisper into her hair, holding her tighter. "And I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."

She shakes her head slightly, sniffling as she looks up at me. "It's fine," she says thickly. "Not like you could do anything."

 _I could have been here with you_ , I say silently. "What do you know?" I murmur after a few quiet minutes.

Shuddering, she shifts in my lap. "It was another stroke," she says shakily. "They couldn't bring him back." She rests her head on my shoulder.

I look around, noticing what is missing. "Where's Cody?" I ask.

"Luke took him down for some lunch while I wait for paperwork from the hospital," she says dully.

I nod, rubbing what I hope are comforting circles on her back. "What about you?" I murmur into her hair. "Are you hungry?"

She only shakes her head I response.

Inwardly, I sigh. This girl weighs practically nothing as it is and I know she has a tendency to skip meals when she gets preoccupied. Normally, I would strongly urge her to eat, probably to the point of being an asshole, but even I can't lecture her right now.

"How was your interview this morning?" I ask after a few silent minutes.

A smile begins to tug at her lips, but doesn't quite form. "It was good," she answers. "I start next week. I was still talking to the manager when the hospital called and explained the circumstances. She took pity on me."

I chuckle softly. "Congratulations," I say, kissing her hair.

She looks up at me with dancing eyes. "Wow, that's impressive," she teases. "That sounded genuine."

I laugh, holding her tighter. "Good. I practiced during the flight down here."

"You flew?" she asks, clearly looking for anything to distract her from the world right now.

"I did," I confirm. "I'd love to take you and Cody up with me some time. Maybe I can fly all of us home."

I can't tell if her tight smile is fear of heights, skepticism of my flying abilities, or something else, and we're interrupted before she can respond. The woman who knocks and enters is hospital administration carrying a manila folder.

Ana slumps in my arms and we stand to meet the woman. She first extends her sympathy to Ana then apologizes for the paperwork that needs to be completed before they can release Ray Steele's body. The paperwork doesn't take as long as I thought it might—Ana finishes is quickly and efficiently.

"What now?" Ana asks the room once the other woman leaves again.

"You tell me," I urge her. "We can get a hotel room for the night or head home now if you prefer. Completely your call."

She takes a deep shuddering breath as she thinks, then shakes her head. "No, I need to get to his house. He has all the arrangements outlined with his will; I need to get the ball rolling on that."

"Okay," I say, texting Sawyer that we're about to leave and will meet him and Cody outside. I then text Taylor to let him know we're going to Montesano. "Sawyer is waiting for us downstairs," I say gently. The poor girl is way too pale and looks lost. I pull her into my arms and hold her for a few minutes, trying to think of anything to make her feel better. I come up with nothing.

"Come on," I say, my arm still around her as I lead her out of the room. When she keeps looking over our shoulders at something, I stop. "What is it?"

She rolls her eyes, at herself, I think, and shakes her head. "Nothing. I just... I don't want to leave him."

My heart breaks for her. "Baby, he'll be fine. Let the hospital take care of him. We'll figure out the rest later. Okay?"

She's still hesitant, but finally nods. "Yeah. You're right..."

The closer we get to where Sawyer and Cody are waiting, I feel Ana's demeanor change. She stands straighter, moves with a little more confidence, and even manages a smile when she sees her son. She amazes me; even on such a devastating day, she can still put on a good face for Cody.

Our drive to Montesano is mostly silent save Cody's chatter and the occasional ringing of my phone. Ana is staring out the window, occasionally raising a hand to wipe her eyes. It's not often that I can't figure out a way to make things better for the people I care about, but this time I am helpless. All I can do is be there for her, take on as much as she needs me to, and help her through it.

Uncertain what else to do, I send Elliot a text message in case Ana hasn't had the chance to speak with Shannon yet. She should have a support system right now. Besides, Shannon probably knows how to handle this better than I do.

As we turn onto Ana's dad's street, I begin to understand how Ana felt the first time she saw where I grew up—that out of place, 'what the fuck am I doing here' feeling. All the houses are built similarly and probably no bigger than two or three bedrooms. Most of them have two cars in the driveway that have to be at least ten years old each and bicycles on the lawn. A few have basketball hoops and other sports equipment spilling out of garages. I can imagine kids playing street hockey or setting up lemonade stands during the summer.

But as out of place as I feel, it fades away when I see the smallest wistful smile on her face.

Cody is bouncing when we pull into Ray Steele's driveway. "Is grandpa here?" he asks excitedly, looking out the window in case his grandfather is waiting somewhere nearby to surprise him.

Thankfully, he's too preoccupied to see how his mother's eyes close slowly and her face crumbles momentarily. "No, baby, Grandpa isn't here," she says quietly.

"Oh," Cody says, disappointed.

Sawyer opens the back door, helping Ana out while Cody expertly removes the straps from his carseat and jumps out behind his mother. I walk around to join them, slipping a hand around Ana's waist as she stares sadly at the house. She jumps a little at my touch, but looks up at me with a tight smile. Cody is bouncing towards the front door with Sawyer just behind him.

"You haven't told him?" I ask quietly.

Ana shakes her head. "Not yet. I'm still trying to process all of this and until I can, I don't want to tell him." She sighs. "It's going to break his heart."

After a quick, comforting hug, we follow Cody's footsteps at a more sedate pace. Ana digs out her keys and opens the front door. Cody darts inside and she follows. I hang back with Sawyer.

"Taylor will be driving down some time this evening. I think we'll be fine here on our own. Book a couple rooms at whatever hotel you can find and send Taylor the details," I inform him. "I doubt we'll be going anywhere tonight."

Sawyer nods. "Yes, sir. Just call if you need anything."

He leaves and I head inside slowly, taking in my new surroundings. It's clear Ray Steele was a bachelor—the curtains and furniture have to be close to ten years old. There's a well worn recliner facing a large television mounted above the fireplace. But it's the photos that line the walls that capture my attention. Most of them are of Anastasia from when she was a small child. She was beautiful even as a young teenager and she looks happy in every photo I look at. I don't think I've ever seen her that happy, but I want to.

"Oh, God, don't look at those," Ana says, embarrassed.

I chuckle. "They're all lovely pictures," I argue.

She rolls her eyes. "You know, I think you're the first guy that I was seeing who came into this house," she says.

"Really?" I say surprised. "What about Preston?"

She huffs. "He never would have stepped foot in here," she says bitterly. "For one, Ray never really liked him the few times they met. And two, he considered this town to be too... rural and therefore not worth his presence."

 _Asshole._ "Well, I have no such aversions," I assure her.

"Good. Because this is me," she says, looking around.

I wrap my arms around her shoulders and kiss her hair. "So what now?" I ask quietly.

She shrugs. "I honestly don't know," she answers. "I need to start making arrangements, but I'm exhausted."

"Okay," I say, swaying her back and forth gently. "How about tonight you take it easy. We'll have dinner and watch a movie or whatever, and deal with everything else tomorrow."

She looks up at me with amusement. "Have some experience with this?"

I smirk. "No," I answer. "I am completely out of my element right now."

She hums in response. "Come on, I'll give you the tour."

The tour of the house doesn't take long. Downstairs is the kitchen, dining room, living room, a bathroom, and a sliding glass door that leads out into a surprisingly spacious backyard complete with a child's jungle gym. Upstairs there are three bedrooms, a couple bathrooms, and a room where we find Cody digging through a toy box.

Again, I smirk. "Playroom?" I ask, glancing down at Ana.

Thankfully, she chuckles. "And this was my bedroom," she says. The only teenage girl's bedroom I have ever seen was Mia's and her's was like walking into a Pepto Bismol nightmare. She had posters of boy bands on the walls, stuffed animals everywhere, and a closet full of designer clothes. Comparably, Ana's room is plain. It contains a full size bed with a blue crocheted blanket, a desk and computer, and a bookshelf that looks to be handmade and is stuffed full of all sorts of books.

Ana's eyes fall on the bed and she frowns. It takes me a moment to figure out her problem. "If you'd rather I slept on the couch, that's fine," I tell her. I won't like it, but I'll do it.

She smiles. "No, it's fine," she replies. "This is all just a bit weird, being here, knowing my dad won't be here." She sighs. "If you don't mind keeping an eye on Cody so he doesn't completely tear apart that toy box, I'll grab a shower then figure out dinner. Knowing Ray, though, there's not a whole lot more than bread, beer, and spam in the kitchen."

I chuckle. "Leave dinner to me," I say, kissing her forehead. "Go take your shower."

She looks at me skeptically. Even though we've only been together a short time, she's learned that my cooking skills aren't much better than her stepfather's.

While she's gone, I wander into Cody's playroom, looking up local pizza places. Cody finds the one his grandpa always used and I order a couple large pizzas, drinks, and a few sides. Not typically my go-to meal, but this is all about making everything easier for Ana.

A few hours later, Ana and I are curled up on the couch watching the movie Cody insisted he wanted to watch even though he fell asleep twenty minutes into it. The two of them are wearing pajamas they had here. Ana offered to find me something of Ray's, but I declined. Not long later, Taylor knocked on the door with my own changes of clothes and pajamas.

I glance down at Ana finding her fast asleep, her head in my lap. Chuckling quietly, I carefully get up, placing Ana's head on a pillow. After carrying Cody up to his room and tucking him in, I return downstairs for Ana. Once she's settled and remains sleeping despite the movement, I go back downstairs to quickly clean up our mess from dinner and turn the lights off, leaving the one Ana dimmed to watch the movie. Unlike Ana, I'm not tired yet, so I slip outside onto the deck I imagine Ray built himself with my messenger bag containing my laptop and set up at the table.

Checking my phone, I see Elliot finally texted back. He and Shannon are off on another vacation, this time to Hawaii, and because of unforeseen shitty weather, all flights back to Seattle are canceled for at least two days. They would have to leave town this week. Well, that means I'm staying with Ana and Cody for at least that long. I don't think I actually would have left her here alone, anyway, but I have to make arrangements with Ros to take over for a few days. She's not particularly thrilled about the arrangement, but of course once I explain the circumstances, she doesn't put up a fight.

An hour or so later, the words on my computer screen are blurring together and I'm yawning, so I pack up my things, eager to get upstairs and get Ana in my arms. But as I start up the stairs, movement from the couch catches my eye and I find Ana sitting there.

"Hey, what are you doing up?" I ask softly, stepping off the stairs in favor of returning to the couch.

She doesn't look up at me until I sit down beside her and see she's looking at what I think may be a family photo album. "Couldn't sleep," she whispers. "And I remembered this and it's been a while since I've looked at it last, so..."

I nod, sliding my arm around her shoulders and kissing her hair. "Is it okay if I look, too?"

She gives me a watery smile. "As long as you don't laugh."

"I wouldn't dare," I say, trying to sound serious.

"Sure you wouldn't," she mutters playfully.

I smirk, pleased that I can still make her smile even now. With Ana cuddled into my side, we peruse the photo album. She tells different stories that go along with the pictures. One of my favorites is Ana at nine years old and she's standing between Mickey and Minnie Mouse at Disneyland. She's missing a front tooth and wearing one of those novelty mouse ears hats. It looks like a dream come true for a little girl.

"You didn't like the Disney princesses?" I tease, looking through the other Disneyland photos.

She raises an eyebrow. "You mean the vapid, husband-obsessed, overly isolated women who all have the perfect bodies but somehow not always the smarts to survive on their own? No, never really been a

fan."

I laugh. "I'll have you know my sister adores the Disney princesses and doesn't possess any of the traits you listed," I say with narrowed eyes, pretending to be offended. Of course she knows better.

She shrugs. "To each their own," she says dismissively. "But honestly, I've always been a fan of Beauty and the Beast."

I frown in thought for a moment, wondering if I'm reading too much into that statement—is she comparing us to a Disney movie? "It's the book thing, right?" I ask, keeping it light.

She looks at me for a moment as though she read my mind and previous thought. "Something like that," she says, yawning. She closes the photo album and places it on the coffee table.

"We should probably get some sleep," I suggest, not particularly pleased with the direction my thoughts are going. Ana notices the subtle shortness in my tone, but doesn't react as I stand up, holding out my hand for her.

Her head cocks to the side, studying me. "Thank you," she says quietly, finally taking my hand.

My brow furrows. "For what?" I ask, bewildered.

Shrugging, she rests her hands at my hips, fingers slipping into the waistband of my pajama pants. "Being here," she says simply, not meeting my gaze immediately.

I press my lips against her forehead. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be," I murmur against her skin. I hold her for a few more minutes before grabbing her hand and tugging her towards the staircase. "Come on, let's get some sleep."

Five minutes later, we're curled up, her back to my front and she is asleep before my head hits the pillow. I look at her for a moment, suddenly desperate to say something to her that I've suspected since the first time she slept in my bed. Confident that she's asleep, I place a soft kiss on her cheek. "I love you, Anastasia," I breathe. Though she's fast asleep, she sighs contentedly and presses herself closer against me, and I take that to mean her subconscious approves of my declaration. Now if I can find the right time to say it to her when she's awake.

* * *

The next morning, despite the late night, Ana is up and out of bed before I am which is yet another first. I always wake before her, before most people, and I wonder whether she got any sleep at all. Rolling out of bed, I cross the room to Ana's desk where I left the clothes Taylor brought for me and head across the hall to the bathroom for a shower.

Downstairs, Cody is playing in front of the television and I hear Ana's voice in the kitchen. She's got her phone wedged between her ear and shoulder while she makes breakfast at the stove.

"No, I'm making arrangements later today, maybe tomorrow, depending, and I'll get you the details as soon as I have them," she says, flipping pancakes on a griddle beside the stove. She listens to whoever she's talking to. "I'd really rather Curtis didn't make an appearance. The last time Ray even mentioned his name it was immediately followed with swear words I'm fairly sure he made up and would make his buddies from the Army either applaud or blush at," she says flatly.

I chuckle and Ana jumps, looking over at me with a brief smile. She points at the coffee pot distractedly, silently telling me to help myself as she returns to making breakfast. Her conversation wraps up a minute or so later, and sighs, turning to where I'm leaning against the counter drinking my coffee.

"How'd you sleep?" she asks, flipping bacon then scrambling eggs.

"Not bad. I was a little surprised when I woke up and found you gone, though," I tell her, setting my coffee mug down so I can slip my arms around her waist, first kissing her cheek then resting my chin on her shoulder.

"Yeah," she says. "I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of the mile long list of things I have to get done which includes calling what's left of Ray's family and his Army buddies, or at least the ones he's still in contact with."

I nod minutely. "Who's Curtis?" I ask curiously.

She snorts a laugh. "Ray's nephew, one of them, anyway. He only shows up when he wants money and routinely slips into his paternal grandparents' house—who are on a fixed income—and stealing shit from them. The last time there was a family funeral, it was Ray's older brother. Lung cancer. Curtis turned up, pretended to be devastated, and afterwards started telling everyone his uncle promised to give him his brand-new truck and a few other expensive items. Ray and the other pallbearers carried him out of the restaurant and dumped him in the snow. They said if he ever bothered any of them again, he'd end up in the ocean next time."

"Classy," I murmur.

"Yeah. Well, Ray made me promise that when he died, nobody would inform Curtis. He didn't want Curtis harassing the rest of us while we were drinking to Ray's memory. Incidentally, immediately following his funeral, we're all meeting up back here for a barbecue and drinking, all of which will be provided by the guys at Ray's favorite bar. It's full of veterans, they grill up good food, and it's overall a family-friendly atmosphere," she announces.

"Sounds perfect," I tell her.

She nods. "Hungry?" she asks a minute or so later.

"Starving," I say, intentionally putting as much suggestion into that one word as I can manage.

Looking over her shoulder at me, she smirks despite her reddening cheeks. And I feel guilty for flirting with her with everything she's going through right now. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I ask gently.

Her eyes sparkle with mischief—perhaps she didn't mind the flirting after all—but she doesn't follow through. "Actually, yes," she says. "If you wouldn't mind dragging Cody away from the television and have him help set the table, that would be perfect."

I glance around the corner of the kitchen wall to peek at Cody. "I don't know," I say doubtfully. "He's watching that cartoon with the talking sponge, so..."

Ana laughs. "He'll get over it," she assures me.

I smile at the sound of her laugh and kiss her temple to do as requested. Surprisingly, Cody doesn't put up much of a fight and turns off the TV, leading me to the kitchen table where Ana has laid out plates, silverware, and breakfast condiments. It's not long before Ana brings out a platter of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage. I retrieve my coffee, Ana's tea, and Cody's apple juice. As I sit at the table, it strikes me how normal this feels and how quickly I've adapted to the situation. I like it, I like it a lot, and I'm not sure I would want to go back to my old life.

"This looks great, Ana," I tell her, helping Cody cut up his pancakes.

She smiles appreciatively, glancing warily at Cody. "After breakfast," she says so only I can hear, "I need to talk to Cody upstairs."

Hopefully my smile is reassuring. "Want help?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I should do this on my own. But thank you," she says.

"Of course." I take a bite of my breakfast. It tastes as good as it looks. "I'm sure I can find something to occupy my time."

Breakfast is delicious and lasts longer than it typically should. I get the impression Ana is putting off the moment when she has to talk to Cody. Thinking back, the first conversation I had with my parents about my birth mother and her death was, I think, more difficult for them than for me. I was eight and one day, I came out and asked Grace what happened to her. She didn't know how to respond at first, but promised that when Carrick got home, we'd all sit down and talk. Somehow, I think they may have hoped I'd never asked the question at all because I'd only just started allowing myself to be part of the family and they feared that conversation might set back the progress I'd made.

They were tactful about the whole thing, explaining that my birth mother had been young when she had me and she fell onto hard times. They said she was sick, though it was a couple more years before they told me the nature of her illness. They made it seem like it wasn't actually her choices that killed her. At that point, they didn't have much in the way of information on her, and I accepted it. Grace explained to me about heaven and that that was where my birth mother was, looking down at me. I later realized the whole concept was bullshit, particularly the part that the crack whore made it to eternal peace and happiness.

Compared to that conversation, the one Ana is about to have with her son is a cakewalk.

After breakfast, Cody asks to go play outside, but Ana denies him, taking a deep breath. I give her a sympathetic look as she takes Cody upstairs. Once they're gone, I debate doing a bit of work or finding something else. Sighing, I gather the breakfast dishes and take them into the kitchen. Thankfully Ray Steele invested in a dishwasher—I don't think I've ever washed dishes by hand and today probably isn't the best day to try.

I manage to complete the task without breaking any dishes, then locate my messenger bag with my laptop. But even though I'm trying to focus on work, every couple of minutes, I glance at the stairs wondering how Ana and Cody are doing.

Nearly an hour and a half later, I still haven't seen either of them, and I have one foot on the stairs to go check on them when there is a knock on the door. I frown, desperately hoping it's not some member of Ana's family. I'm not sure I can handle grieving strangers without Ana's assistance. But when I open the door, I see my family rather than hers.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask Elliot.

"Good to see you, too, little brother," Elliot replies sardonically.

I roll my eyes and look at Shannon. "I thought you two were stuck in Hawaii because of weather."

"We were," Shannon says. "But Elliot managed to find someone willing to brave the storm and get us to LA where we were able to grab a flight to Portland."

I glance at my brother as his eyes close and he shakes his head, a shudder running through him.

"Don't ask," he practically begs, holding up a case of beer. "Mind letting us in so I can drain two or three of these in the next half hour."

Shannon bites her lip against a laugh at Elliot. I step to the side so he can get in and Shannon hangs back for a minute. "He got airsick a few times flying through the turbulence," she explains in a whisper. I huff a laugh as she enters the house and looks around. "Where's Ana?"

"Upstairs with Cody," I say pointedly as Elliot hands me a beer. It's a little early in the day for drinking, but exceptions can be made.

"Oh," Shannon says in realization.

I nod. "They've been up there a while," I say, looking at the staircase. "I don't know if I should leave them alone or..."

Surprisingly, Elliot is the voice of reason. "Let them deal with this however they need to," he says sagely.

"How is Ana?" Shannon asks.

I give a half-shrug and shake my head. "Honestly, I'm not sure. On the outside she seems to be dealing maybe a little too well, probably for Cody's benefit. I think she's still in shock."

Shannon nods. "Well, at least she hasn't been alone," she comments, smiling sadly at me.

Again, I shrug, uncertain how to respond. "What actually happened?" Elliot asks.

"Her dad had another stroke early yesterday morning. His heart stopped, they tried to revive him, but they couldn't."

"Well, at least he went in his sleep," Elliot says. "No pain, no suffering."

Shannon reaches out her leg to kick Elliot in the shin, warning him to stop talking as she stares past me. I look over my shoulder and see Ana descending towards us. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she looks a little shell-shocked.

"Hey," I say, getting up to meet her. She doesn't respond verbally, wrapping her arms around my waist as I embrace her. I want to ask her how the talk with Cody went, but given her current state, I decide it isn't the best idea right now.

Ana backs away after a few moments, taking a deep breath to calm herself, and spots Shannon and Elliot on the couch. Following a flurry of greetings, we all settle, though three of us don't want to push Ana to talk.

"What now?" I ask quietly, taking her hand.

She sighs. "I need to deal with the funeral arrangements, call more family members, and sort through Ray's safe. And Cody needs a suit," she adds, frowning. I suspect she's worried about her current bank balance.

"Elliot and I can take care of Cody," I say, glancing at my brother. I expect her to argue, but she nods. "We'll grab something for dinner on the way back, so don't worry about that."

"We will?" Elliot asks. Again, Shannon kicks him in the shin, making Ana smile. "Yeah, of course we will," he adds, reaching down to rub his leg. "Happy to help."

"Where is the little man?" Shannon asks tentatively.

"Playing upstairs. I'm not sure how much he understood about Ray, or if he gets the finality of the whole thing." Ana shrugs.

I place a hand on her knee, squeezing gently and ignoring the shocked look on my brother's face. Apparently he still hasn't adjusted to seeing me with a woman. "He'll be fine," I assure her.

She smiles tightly at me and I'm not certain she shares in my sentiment. "Anyway, I should probably get started sorting through everything."

"Then I suppose it's time we go shopping," I say, looking at Elliot. He's already gone through two beers compared to my half of a beer.

We coax Cody away from his toys and I take the keys to Elliot's rental car. It only takes a quick search to find a decent place to get a suit for Cody. The young woman working at the store hones in on us the moment we walk through the door and proves to be overly helpful. I ignore her, instead leading Cody over to a rack of suits to see what he likes best. Worst case scenario, I overrule him in case he chooses something Ana won't like.

But to my surprised delight, he shows that he has impeccable fashion taste when he locates a light gray Armani three-piece suit. I take the suit off the rack and lead Cody back to where the overly helpful employee is trying her best to flirt with Elliot. I bite back a laugh when I see him sitting in a chair playing with his phone rather than engaging with her.

The suit needs a few measurement adjustments, so I take Cody into a fitting room to help him change into his suit before leading him back to the stool, then take my seat beside Elliot as the shop girl does her job. Overly friendly though she may be, she seems to know what she's doing.

"Kid's got good taste," Elliot remarks.

I nod, snapping a quick photo of Cody to send to Ana. "Yeah, much better than yours," I say, grinning. "Remember the powder blue leisure suit you picked out when Carrick took us for our first suits when we were old enough to go to one of their fundraisers?"

He glares at me. "I'll have you know the ladies at that party enjoyed that suit," he says defensively.

"If by 'ladies' you mean every woman over sixty," I mutter.

"Even at eight I was getting cougar action," he brags. "Man, you don't know what you were missing. Older women know what they want and exactly how to please a guy."

I bite my tongue. If he only knew...

My phone buzzes with a reply from Ana.

 **What have you done with my dirty t-shirt wearing, scabbed kneed, kool-aid mustached son?**

I chuckle as another text arrives.

 **He looks amazing, thank you.**

"Okay, I can have these adjustments finished in an hour or so," says the shop girl, business-like. "You can leave your number and I can call when it's done, or maybe you three want to grab some lunch."

A brief glance at Elliot communicates that neither of us is willing to give this girl our phone numbers.

"We'll come back in an hour," I tell her. She looks vaguely disappointed, and once Cody is back in his regular clothes, she leads us to the cash register. I don't blink twice at the $800 total which includes new dress shoes and a tie, but decide not to mention it to Ana unless she specifically asks.

After a brief argument between Elliot and Cody, we settle on a lunch location. I roll my eyes as we enter and see the pop culture décor on the walls. The music is slightly too loud and the menu is basically junk food, but Cody seems perfectly content in his booster seat beside me. Our server is wearing suspenders and his shirt is covered in novelty pins. Once we've placed our order, Cody turns all his focus on coloring the back of his paper menu so Elliot and I have a chance to talk.

"Things between you and Ana seem to be going well," Elliot says quietly, leadingly.

I nod, sipping my nearly sickeningly sweet iced tea. "They are," I agree, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You think it might lead into something more?" he asks.

"Like what?"

Elliot glances at Cody briefly. "Like the white picket fence, 2.5 kids... matching rings," he says slyly.

It takes only a second to figure out exactly what he's referencing. "Dude, we've been seeing each other for barely two months," I remind him. "Maybe give it a little longer before all that?"

But his comment sticks in my mind as we eat. Are those things even what I want? I haven't even worked up the nerve to tell Ana that I'm in love with her, let alone anything more than that. The idea isn't unattractive, though. What does Ana want? We've never actually discussed the future or where our relationship is headed.

Still, it's too soon for all that, right? I'm still trying to figure out how to navigate this relationship and she isn't exactly in the best place right now. Not to mention marriage would also make me Cody's stepfather. I never imagined I would ever have a child. What sort of father could I be with all my baggage? I would be too afraid to somehow damaging a child either psychologically or emotionally to do a proper job.

" _Cody already adores you."_

Ana's words from weeks ago come back. At the time I was flattered, but didn't think much about it. Now it fills me with a warmth I've come to associate with being with Ana. I can't imagine myself in a relationship like what we have with anybody else. This feels like a once in a lifetime deal, and yes, I can see us eventually married and happy.

I need to arrange a therapy session with Flynn once I'm back in Seattle. I need advice.

But in the meantime, I have to get Ana through the next few days, preferably without letting my wandering thoughts provoke me into a panic attack.


	12. Chapter 12

Apologies for the delayed update. I've been sick and unable to do much typing, which is also why this chapter is shorter than the others. I'll try to have the next chapter out as soon as possible, but still being sick, I can't guarantee when that will be. Also, there will be some drama beginning in the next chapter, so be prepared for that. It is _Fifty Shades_ after all. Aside from all that, thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. The response to this story has been beyond my expectations! I hope you all continue to enjoy!

* * *

With our errand complete, we return to the house where Cody immediately drags Elliot by the hand to the door to the backyard. Rolling my eyes, I'm not sure which of them is more eager. They spent the ride back arguing about which of them could swing higher. My money is on Cody, but I'm half-expecting the swing set to tip over when it's my brother's turn.

"Hey, you're back," Shannon greets us. Elliot barely has the chance to wave at her before being pulled away. It's impressive that a three-year-old has enough strength to pull my brother anywhere. "Okay, see you later..." She turns and looks at me shaking my head. "Dare I ask?"

"Probably not," I reply. I drape the suit bag containing Cody's suit over a chair and place the other purchases next to it. "How's it going here?" I eye the stacks of paperwork strewn about the kitchen table.

Shannon hesitates. "Not bad," she says carefully, averting her gaze.

I raise an eyebrow as I see Ana step off the staircase out of the corner of my eye and turn her way, giving her what I hope is a sympathetic smile. The wary expression on her face, however, wipes that smile away. "What's wrong?" I ask her quietly.

She sighs. "Can we talk in private?" she whispers.

"Of course," I say, hoping she doesn't hear the nervousness in my voice.

Ana leads me back upstairs to her bedroom and for just a moment, I think she may have gotten me up here for something less innocent than a talk. But then she sits cross-legged in the middle of the bed with paperwork arranged before her. I sit at the desk rather than with her trying to work out what's happening right now.

"Ana, what is the matter?" I ask when the silence between us becomes unbearable.

She takes a steadying breath before speaking. "So while you guys were gone, Shannon and I started going through Ray's safe for his will and the arrangements he's already made for his funeral," she says flatly as though she's been reciting this speech for a while. "There were a few other things, some rare foreign coins he wanted Cody to have when he got older, the lockbox where he keeps his gun. But going through that stuff barely took an hour. After we finished with the safe, we started gathering Ray's bills and organizing what needs paying—electricity, cable, phone, internet... But the one bill I was dreading this whole time was the hospital bill."

 _Shit._ I suddenly know where this conversation is headed. The day I decided to pay her father's hospital bills, I knew this day would come and that it wouldn't be pretty.

She continues. "And that's where it got weird," she says. "There were no recent bills from the hospital or the insurance company, or anything. I assumed there had been some mistake, so I called the insurance company. They told me they hadn't received any claims from the hospital in close to two and a half months, but Ray's account balance with them was clear and up to date. Then I called the hospital. _They_ told me he had no balance with them either, that everything past and present had been taken care of, but they couldn't tell me who had paid them." She looks at me pointedly. "You know what I'm getting at right?"

I nod slowly. "I have a vague notion, yes," I say cautiously.

"And?"

Sighing, I lean forward in the chair, closer to her. "If you're asking whether I paid for your father's hospital bills, the answer is yes," I say, waiting nervously for her reaction. She hasn't made it a secret that she's uncomfortable with me paying such large amounts on her behalf.

Surprisingly, there's a small, grudging smile on her face. "Why?" she asks, shaking her head.

"Because you had enough to worry about," I say frankly. "I wanted to take some of that weight off your shoulders and I had the means to do so." She stares at me silently, so I continue to plead my case. "I should have told you, I know that, and I'm sorry for that, but I won't apologize for paying those bills. If I had to, I would do it again." I sound defensive, challenging even, but it's the truth.

Her expression softens. "Okay, then," she says with some finality.

I frown in confusion. "You're not mad at me?" I ask tentatively.

She smiles finally. "I think part of me wants to be mad at you, but no. I wish you would have mentioned it." She frowns briefly. "When did you do this?"

I hesitate. "A while ago," I say.

Her eyes narrow on me. "How a while ago? After our first date?"

I shake my head. "Before that," I answer. "I believe it shortly followed your car breaking down."

Her eyes widen. "Oh," she mouths. She shakes her head exasperatedly. "Mr. Grey, you are so over the top sometimes."

I give her a crooked grin. "That I am, Miss Steele," I agree. Now that I'm assured she won't push me away, I abandon the desk chair and join her on the bed. To my delight, she curls into me as we lay back against the pillows.

"Thank you," she whispers, her head on my shoulder.

I hold her closer in response and out of nowhere, she begins to shake. When I look down at her, she's crying into my shirt so I adjust slightly so my other arm can wrap around her, too. My best guess is that her shock is starting to wear off and the fact that her father is gone is settling in. There is nothing I can say right now that could possibly make this any easier for her, so I simply hold her. I don't know how long we remain like that before there's a soft knock on the door.

"Ana?" calls Shannon. "Some of Ray's family have been calling your cell. I told them you'd call them back."

"We'll be down soon," I call back as Ana shifts away and begins to wipe her eyes. We hear Shannon's footsteps retreat a few seconds later. I reach over to the nightstand for the box of tissues sitting there and turn back to Ana, gentle moving her hands away from her face and wipe the tears away less roughly than she's been doing it.

"You okay?" I mutter as she fixes her ponytail.

She sniffs, but nods, glancing at me. "Your shirt's wet, I'm sorry," she says, ineffectively wiping at my shirt where she cried against me.

I stop her hand, bringing it to my lips to kiss her knuckles. "It's only a shirt. Don't worry about it."

Sighing, she nods. "How was Cody today? Did he give you any trouble?"

I shake my head. "Not at all," I assure her. "I had to overrule Elliot's idea of taking him for his first beer at a strip club, but apart from that..."

Thankfully I manage to elicit a smile from her. "Well, that is much appreciated. I was hoping to wait until he was six before he tried beer for the first time—you know, so he can truly appreciate the experience," she jokes.

I grin, relieved that even now I can make her laugh. I nod towards the door. "Shall we?" I suggest.

She nods. "Yeah, might as well get it over with..."

The rest of the afternoon is spent with Ana on the phone with either family or the funeral home. Elliot, Shannon, and I do what we can to help out, mostly by keeping Cody occupied. The one thing Ana has been trying to put off all day is actually going into the funeral home to make final preparations.

Unfortunately she can't procrastinate anymore, so once she's gathered everything she needs, I take her myself. Thankfully, Ray already made the big decisions—choosing a casket, a burial plot, even the location for the funeral. He wasn't overly religious, so the service itself is being held at the funeral home. All Ana has to do is pick out his clothes and select a photo of her dad. She handles it all better than I thought she might, but by the time we leave, she's exhausted and I'm starting to see the toll this whole ordeal is taking on her.

With that in mind, I suggest we pick up dinner for everyone, restock Ray's liquor cabinet, and have an easy, relaxing night. She agrees readily and gratefully, suggesting we get burgers and fries from a diner not far from Ray's that they frequent regularly, swearing it's the best burger any of us will have ever had.

And she wasn't wrong. After we eat, we play a few games with Cody before his bedtime, then the rest of us gather in the living room and talk about anything that has nothing to do with what's currently happening. Elliot graces us with stories from his and Shannon's brief vacation to Hawaii. I roll my eyes at Ana when he tries telling us that while they were snorkeling in the ocean, he was chased by a giant shark. Shannon corrects the story, informing us it was a small school of tiny fish that came up behind him, startling him to the point that he nearly drowned himself.

Ana is distracted, though, so I ignore the bickering between my brother and his girlfriend to find out why.

She sighs. "I was looking through Ray's will," she says quietly. "He left pretty much everything to Cody and me, including this house."

"Are you going to keep it?" Shannon asks curiously. "Hell of a lot cheaper to live here than in Seattle."

I stiffen. She can't be thinking of moving here, right?

Ana shrugs. "That's true, and the house is completely paid off. No mortgages or anything," she says thoughtfully, sipping her beer. "And I know enough people here that finding work would be easy..."

My heart drops. All the reasons she's listing are good ones. She could have a better life down here without worrying about losing the roof over her and her son's heads—not that I would ever let that happen anyway. And if I really loved her, I would encourage her to take what her father has given her, even if it meant losing her. It's what is best for them and deep down, I know that.

But I could provide them an even better life than that. She wouldn't have to work menial jobs where she comes home exhausted every night. She wouldn't have to worry about money or how to pay her bills at the end of the month. Cody could go to the best schools Seattle has to offer and later, to college wherever he wanted to go. I wouldn't have to face losing them. I don't want to, not now, not ever.

The conversation has moved on by the time I tune back in and I don't get a chance to ask Ana whether she was serious or not until we're climbing into bed.

"Everything okay?" she asks.

I'm sitting up in bed against the headboard, over thinking as always. I debate whether this is the right time for this conversation—probably not, but if I don't ask her, I will brood over it for days and probably end up doing something I'll regret.

I sigh. "Are you really considering moving back here?" I ask in a low voice, turning to look at her.

She frowns in surprise; clearly this isn't what she expected me to say. "I don't really know," she replies slowly. "I mean, yeah, moving back to Montesano definitely has its merits and would probably solve a lot of problems, but I have a life in Seattle. Maybe I don't have the best job, but I have friends, an apartment that isn't a complete shithole." She smiles a little. "And I have you."

"That you do," I murmur softly, taking her hand.

"I don't want to uproot Cody right now. His doctors are there, and even though he hasn't really had problems in a while, I feel more comfortable knowing they're close. Besides, with what Ray is leaving us plus the sale of the house if I decide to sell it, we're reasonably set financially for a while." She shrugs. "You know, I left here because I wanted to see more, even if it's only the immediate area around my apartment. Aside from a brief stint in Vegas with my mom, my whole life was spent in a small town setting or with my nose stuck in a book. That never felt like living for me. And Ray always encouraged me to get out and see things with my own eyes instead of in my mind. Moving back here would be the opposite of that."

I nod slowly. "Whatever you decide, I'll support you. But you should also know the selfish part of me would do just about anything to keep you in Seattle," I admit.

She bites her lip against a smile. "Duly noted, Mr. Grey," she says. " _You_ should know that I've had enough to drink that the thought of getting you naked in my childhood bed seems like a really good idea right now."

My eyes widen and I smile slowly. "Is that so?" I ask huskily. Despite hoping, I hadn't expected Ana to be in much of a mood for sex this week, and I certainly couldn't blame her for it. But since she's offering...

She nods slowly, biting her lip again in a way she knows gets me hard in an instant, and moves the blankets away from the both of us so she can throw a leg over me, straddling me. The moment she's where she wants to be, she slides her fingers into my hair, tugging to tilt my head back so she can kiss me. It's not long before we're both lost in each other and forgetting everything else.

* * *

Ray Steele's funeral goes as well as a funeral ever could. Clearly, the man was popular; the funeral home had to bring in more chairs than anticipated and even then there were still people standing at the back. Several people got up to deliver eulogies, Ana included, and going solely on the stories alone, I'm sorry I never got to meet him.

Once the service ended, Ana spent close to an hour accepting hugs and condolences from everyone in attendance, including one from a guy around her age who spent a little too long hugging her and longer holding onto her hand while they talked. It didn't escape my notice that Elliot placed himself between me and them, probably to avoid a messy, embarrassing scene when I broke the guy's hand in the middle of the funeral home.

By early afternoon, the backyard of Ray's house is packed. A few guys Ana introduced me to as friends of Ray's from his local bar have setup a few grills on the deck and the smell of cooking hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken, and barbecue ribs fills our nostrils. There are several coolers full of beer and soda, and a table full of every liquor anybody could want. Elliot is already looking buzzed. Cody is playing with a few other kids, cousins, I believe. And I am looking for Ana. She's been busy playing hostess and I'm determined she finds a few minutes to relax.

I find her standing near the jungle gym, keeping an eye on Cody, and in the company of the same kid whose hand I wanted to break at the funeral home. He's standing a little too closely to her while they talk and it's clear that he has some amount of interest in her, even though she seems clueless. Gritting my teeth, I go to intercede.

"Hey," I say to Ana, sliding a hand around her hip. "Everything all right?"

My eyes dart to the other guy. I have to admit he's attractive enough—with his looks, he could have practically any girl he wants. Just not my girl. He shoots me a glare and I wait for him to say something about interrupting his conversation with Ana, but she looks at me, smiling, before he can open his mouth.

"Hey, yeah," she answers, glancing between the boy and me. "Sorry, Christian Grey, this is José Rodriguez. His dad and Ray were in the Army together. José and I have known each other since we were kids."

I force a smile, holding out a hand to shake his in an attempt to be the bigger man. "Always a pleasure to meet Ana's friends," I say smoothly, leaning over to kiss Ana's hair just so Rodriguez is clear about my place in her life.

The message is clearly received when it looks as though he might be sick. I inwardly gloat. "So, uh, how'd you two meet?" José asks grudgingly.

"My mother is Cody's doctor," I answer. "Ana and I met at an event she throws for her patients."

Ana smiles. "Christian is the one who encouraged Cody to take another turn at the dunk tank," she elaborates.

"Oh, right, the carnival thing," José says in realization. "Yeah, sorry again that I couldn't go with you."

I narrow my eyes. So Ana invited him along. Well, I for one am glad he was a no-show. I wouldn't have pursued Ana if I thought she might be involved with somebody else—I wouldn't have even bothered to look into the status of that alleged involvement.

"José is a photographer," Ana explains to me. "He's had jobs all over the Northwest since leaving school."

I don't particularly like the look of pride in her eyes over this other guy's achievements. "That must keep you busy," I say evenly. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ana's slight frown; I think she's catching on to what is going on between her friend and me.

"Yeah," Rodriguez says shortly. "I guess it does. I should go check on my dad. Maybe we can catch up soon, Ana?" He gives her a little smile that probably charms the pants off of most girls. Thankfully, Ana is not most girls.

Once he's gone, Ana looks up at me, clearly trying to mask her amusement with disapproval. "Was that entirely necessary?" she asks sternly.

I smirk. "Probably not, but it was fun," I admit. Right now probably isn't the time to stake my claim on her. "You bring out my jealous side, Miss Steele."

She rolls her eyes, but looks pleased.

The afternoon continues on and is much more enjoyable than I thought it might be. Numerous stories about Ray, mostly amusing, are exchanged. To my irritation, Ana's friend José has his own collection of stories. Apparently he and his father, José Sr., have spent many weekends on fishing trips or going to baseball games together when they could. One of Ana's stories is set shortly after Cody was born. To give Ana some rest, Ray kept an eye on Cody. Even though he was only a few weeks old, Cody did everything in his power to make those few hours as difficult as possible—numerous spit-ups, a couple diaper malfunctions, and Ray being sprayed while attempting to change his grandson's diaper.

"Diaper malfunction?" I ask uneasily so that only Ana can hear me.

She smirks. "Don't ask."

Babies. Diapers and vomit and shit. Add months of not sleeping to that, and it's one of the top reasons I never wanted to be a father. I glance beside me at Ana with Cody on her lap while he messily eats a hot dog and actually consider the possibility. If Ana and I stay together and eventually get to whatever the next step is, I'll become a father figure to Cody. But do I want anything more that that? They are more than I ever thought I would have; to expect anything beyond that would be greedy. I still don't know what Ana may want or how to even begin asking her. This may be all she wants right here, right now, so over thinking could be pointless.

It's late by the time Ana is showing the last of Ray's friends and family out of the house. Thankfully, there is no clean-up to deal with; the people who cooked took care of everything. Finally, Ana collapses tiredly beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. Smiling down at her, I wrap an arm around her.

She looks around. "Where are Elliot and Shannon?" she asks suspiciously. More than once today, we've caught them in whatever private spot they could find, including Cody's playroom. Thankfully Ana caught them before they could get past the initial making out stage.

"Packing, actually," I tell her. "Elliot needs to be back in Seattle in the morning for a job, so they're taking off soon."

"Hmm," she murmurs.

"And Cody is cleaned up and tucked into bed," I continue.

This perks her up a bit. "Really?" she asks interestedly. "How'd you pull that off?"

"Gave him that beer Elliot offered him the other day," I say dismissively. She chuckles. "He was falling asleep standing up. It didn't take much."

"Kid needs to work on his alcohol tolerance," she mutters, resting her head on my shoulder again.

We have a few minutes of quiet before Elliot stomps down the stairs with Shannon just behind him. Ana heaves herself off the couch and I follow the three of them to the door. "Leaving so soon?" she asks, hugging Shannon.

"Being the boss is a bitch," Elliot says, shaking his head dramatically. "But it is my cross to bear."

I roll my eyes. "You do realize I am, technically, your boss?" I ask him.

He scoffs. "Bullshit. I'm older. The oldest is always the boss," he replies dismissively.

"Elliot, you're barely a year older than I am," I remind him, just as I've been doing since we were teenagers.

"Whatever, still counts," Elliot counters, waving off Christian's words. "How long are you guys staying?"

I glance at Ana who hesitates. "We should probably head back tomorrow," she says reluctantly. "I've got a new job to prepare for and I'm sure Christian needs to get back to work, too."

"But the difference between me and, say, Elliot, is that I have a team that can fully and successfully handle themselves and my company in my absence," I say smugly, looking at Elliot. He rolls his eyes to hide his amusement before I turn back to Ana. "But we can leave whenever you wish. I can have my helicopter moved here with a phone call and it's probably a couple hours flight back to Seattle."

She shrugs indecisively and Shannon quickly changes the subject, telling Elliot to load the car. He grumbles under his breath, but grabs their bags. Shannon rolls her eyes and starts to say something, but Cody calls for Ana and she excuses herself, leaving me alone with Shannon.

"Thanks for getting here so quickly," I say to her. "I was doing all right on my own, I think, but she definitely needed more support."

Shannon shakes her head. "You did great," she tells me. "I think this would have made her fall apart if you hadn't been there with her, so thank _you._ " She takes a deep breath. "Actually, I've wanted to talk to you, but the last few days have been hectic."

I raise an eyebrow. "Is this the 'if you hurt her, I'll rip off your balls' speech?" I ask sardonically.

She laughs. "No, but that does apply," she says. "I just wanted to say that Ana is... complicated. Her first instinct is to protect herself and her Cody, no matter the circumstances. It's not always easy to get close to her and you've gotten closer than anybody I've ever seen her with, and that includes me. She's happy right now, happier than, again, I've ever seen her, and that's down to you. Just... be patient with her when she gets into one of her stubborn moods. Or if she tries to push you away."

I frown, wondering if that's actually a scenario I may have to face.

"I think it's a defense mechanism for her. She gets scared when she realizes she's getting close to somebody. It's probably a result of what happened with Cody's dad. I mean, I don't know if she'll react the way she does with a lot of people with you, but I thought you should be prepared, just in case."

I blink, uncertain what to say in response except... "Um, thank you," I mutter.

"But," Shannon goes on, "it's obvious that the two of you are very much into each other, even if she doesn't outwardly and openly admit it."

 _She isn't the only one who doesn't openly admit it..._

Before I can respond to Shannon's comments, Ana comes back downstairs and Elliot reenters the house. "All set, babe?" he asks Shannon, looking exhausted.

"Elliot, why don't you stay tonight and fly back with us tomorrow?" I say concernedly. The last thing anyone needs is Elliot falling asleep at the wheel.

Yawning, Elliot shakes his head. "Nah, I'm good," he says unconvincingly. "That's what coffee is for, anyway." He smiles suddenly and looks for Ana. "Well, thanks for having us. It's been fun." He winces immediately as Shannon and I roll our eyes. "I don't mean..."

But Ana laughs. "It's fine. Drive safely, please," she requests.

Once they are gone, I help Ana lock up and turn off the lights, and we head upstairs to her bedroom. "So I heard Shannon talking to you down there," she says. I frown, hoping she didn't actually hear the entire conversation. "Was she threatening to harm you if you hurt me?"

She looks up at me, smiling.

I huff. "Something like that," I tell her. "I believe there was reference to testicular removal."

Ana smirks. "Let's hope that doesn't happen, then," she says slyly, looking up at me and biting her lip. I know what that look means...

I bite back a groan. "If you give me two minutes to text Taylor about _Charlie Tango_ , I'll be able to do something about that lip biting habit of yours."

She purses her lips thoughtfully. "You've got a minute-thirty, Grey," she says, disappearing into the bathroom as I fumble for my phone.


	13. Chapter 13

As always, Taylor has exceeded expectations. Not only has _Charlie Tango_ been moved to a local airfield and a flight plan had been confirmed, but he arranged to have breakfast delivered to us at Ray's house in the morning so that we didn't have to cook and deal with clean-up or go out to eat with packing and everything else going on. He and Sawyer are heading out for their own breakfast before we have to leave for the airfield, despite Ana inviting them to stay, and will return to drive us to the airfield, then take our luggage home.

While we eat, Ana tells Cody that instead of driving back to Seattle, we're going to fly in my helicopter. He was complaining about only being allowed to take one toy with him and this was how Ana decided to placate him. It worked exceptionally well, to the point that he didn't even want to finish breakfast so we could go to the helicopter now. His disappointment that our flight isn't for another few hours was, thankfully, brief, and he began asking me every questions he could think of about helicopters, some of which were bordering on absurd, but I managed to come up with answers for them anyway.

Ana watches us with that look on her face again, the one I can't quite place, but also the one that fills me with a warmth I want to continue to feel for as long as possible. Whenever I glance at her, she doesn't try to hide the fact that she's watching and the identity of that feeling is just out of my reach. I feel like I should know what it means and what to do about it, but Cody distracts me with another question, and I turn my attention towards him.

An hour later, Cody is running back and forth through the house to make sure he didn't leave any of his favorite toys behind. Ana has tried reminding him over and over that they would come back, but has finally given up and let her son pack however he wishes to.

"So... flying..." Ana says slowly, entering the bedroom as I finish packing my things. "Have you been flying long?"

I detect more than a hint of nervousness in her voice and smile. Rather than tease her a little as I normally would, I answer honestly. "About six years," I assure her. "I've never had anything close to a flight problem or a crash. And my helicopter is top of the range with the best safety stats in the world." I approach her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "I assure you, Anastasia, that I would never do anything that might lead to you or Cody being hurt in any way. I trust the two of you with myself more than I would allowing someone else to fly us." Perhaps that's a little arrogant, but it's true. I have absolute faith in my flying abilities.

This seems to relax her. "Okay, then," she says, pressing up on her tiptoes to kiss me. Though she meant for it to be a brief kiss, I hold her there, deepening the kiss for a little longer. She's smiling with her eyes closed when she pulls away. "I should finish packing. Could you check and make sure Cody actually packed his clothes along with his toys?"

Chuckling, I kiss her forehead and leave her to her packing.

* * *

It's not long before Sawyer and Taylor arrive again to collect us and Cody bounces all the way to the car in his eagerness to get moving. Once Ana finishes locking up the house and shutting off the electricity and gas, we head out. Sawyer passes me the flight plan and I look it over before placing it in my messenger bag, then turn to Ana.

"So we will be landing on top of my building. You and Cody are more than welcome to stay for a while if you'd like. We can have lunch, watch a movie, or something. It's entirely up to you." I realize this would be the first time Cody will be visiting my home and I frown briefly, thinking of my version of a playroom just upstairs from my TV room. I don't intend to give Cody the full tour of the penthouse, but that door is locked, even assuming he does go wandering off. "Unless you need to get home early for work..."

Ana smiles, shaking her head. "No, we'd like that. Right, Cody?" But he's not paying attention to anything except the stuffed helicopter toy I'd given him weeks ago, pretending to fly it around and making quiet helicopter noises.

I chuckle. "I'll let Gail know to expect us." Removing my phone from my pocket, I text Mrs. Jones, informing her that not only Ana but Cody also are coming for lunch once we've landed in Seattle. I'm confident that she'll have no trouble cooking up something child-friendly.

My own excitement begins to grow as we approach the airfield and I see _Charlie Tango_ waiting for us. Joe, who looks after my helicopter and one of the few other people I would trust her with, is finishing up the necessary checks.

"Wow," Cody says in awe once he spots _Charlie Tango_. "That's _yours_?"

I smile proudly, helping him out of his car seat and out of the car. "Yep. Come, I'll show you around."

Ana is also impressed by my helicopter as we all climb aboard. First I get in, then turn and help Cody then Ana inside. I buckle Cody into a seat with the safety harness, making sure it's tight enough that he can't slip out, but loose enough that he can still breathe. Once I'm certain, I place a pair of headphones on him before rejoining Ana in the front to place her in her own harness. Smirking when I finish, I stand back and admire the look of her. Perhaps she'll never take another step into my playroom, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view or the thoughts they bring. She narrows her eyes at me as I hand her the headphones, but I ignore her as I take my own seat.

Briefly I turn back to Cody with my own headphones in place. "Be ready, buddy. It's about to get loud, okay?" I warn him.

He looks startled at the sound of my voice in his ears which makes me laugh, but he nods eagerly. "Okay," he says in his small voice.

Starting up my helicopter, I communicate with the tower, waiting for confirmation that I can take off. When I have it, I glance at Ana who has a nervous but excited smile on her face and she glances back at Cody who is staring out the window waiting to see whatever there is to see.

He gasps in surprised delight as we liftoff and it makes me smile. I don't normally have passengers—in the past, I've had only my family or security with me—and I certainly don't bother myself with whether they are having a good time or not. But the longer we fly, the more I find myself looking over at Ana or in the mirror that allows me to see the back of the helicopter at Cody. They're both enjoying themselves immensely. Cody often points something out to us that he finds interesting and he and Ana are chatting back and forth for most of the flight.

As our flight comes to an end, I'm reluctant as always for it to be over, but today, there is a second layer added to that: I don't want to see Ana's and Cody's enjoyment end. More than that, I've gotten a taste of what life would be like with them on a day to day basis and I've enjoyed that. Now, once they leave my apartment, we'll go back to seeing each other only in the evenings when our schedules line up and on weekends. This isn't the first time I've thought about asking Ana to move in with me nor the first time that I realized it's probably too soon for that. That doesn't mean I don't want to, though.

I shake the thoughts from my head and shut down my helicopter before helping Ana and Cody out and gathering the things we brought with us. Upon his arrival, Joe will take _Charlie Tango_ back to the hangar, but in the meantime, she will be perfectly safe up here.

Taking Ana's hand, I lead her and Cody to the elevator, and we take a short ride down one level before exiting the service elevator into my apartment. Gail is at the stove where a cookie sheet of chicken fingers that she made with her own breading is resting on top beside a pot of her homemade macaroni and cheese—my favorite of her dishes.

"Welcome home, Mr. Grey," she greets me. "Hello, Ana." She looks down at where Cody is suddenly acting shyly, hiding behind his mother's legs. Her smile widens. "And who is this?"

Ana reaches behind her in a practiced move and pulls Cody in front of her, placing both hands on his shoulders, presumably so he can't hide again. "This is my son, Cody," she tells Gail. "Cody, can you say hi to Mrs. Jones?"

Cody gives Gail a small wave and mutters something that vaguely resembles a hello.

I snort a laugh and walk towards the fridge. "Ana, would you like some wine?" I ask. She nods and I pour the two of us a glass, then a glass of apple juice for Cody. "That smells wonderful, Gail."

She smiles. "About fifteen minutes, Mr. Grey?" she asks.

I nod. "Thank you."

While we wait, Ana and I watch Cody run around the apartment. He's particularly interested in the floor to wall windows that overlook Seattle so we all go out onto the patio. Thankfully there are glass railings running the length of the patio since Cody runs right to the edge to look down in amazement.

"I don't know where he gets that," Ana says, watching him slightly nervously. "Heights are not my thing."

I smile. "You seemed to enjoy the helicopter ride," I remind her, bumping her shoulder.

She bites her lip against her own smile. "Yeah, that wasn't so bad," she concedes.

Leaning over, I press my lips to her forehead, then glance behind me where I can see Gail laying out the table. "Lunch is ready, come," I say softly against her hair. God, she smells good... Ana wrangles Cody and we all head inside to eat. I like having them here. That is surprising. More surprising than almost anything else apart from my sudden feelings for Ana that only seem to grow stronger. And they seem perfectly comfortable being here.

Lunch is delicious as always. Afterwards, I take them into the TV room where Cody is, once again, amazed not only at the size of my television, but the selection of my movie collection, then the array of video game systems and games that go along with them.

"Didn't know you were a gamer," Ana teases me while Cody selects a movie. "Or a Disney fan." I don't have a lot that are child-friendly, but Mia insists that I have an extensive Disney movie collection.

"I don't think I've watched any of them here; my sister used to make Elliot and me watch them when she was little. And she never took no for an answer," I explain. "As for the games, those are for Elliot's use."

"Uh huh," Ana says, smirking. "There is nothing wrong with watching Disney princesses, Christian. They don't make you less of a man."

I turn to her, raising an eyebrow. "If you have questions regarding my manhood, there are ways I can reassure you," I say seductively, leaning close to speak directly in her ear.

She shivers and I grin in triumph. Unfortunately this isn't the setting for that reassurance as Cody runs back to us with the movie he's chosen. As I put the disk in the Blu-Ray player, Gail comes in with popcorn and drinks for us. We then settle in for the movie. By the end, Cody is asleep, curled up in a chair and Ana isn't far from it. I suppose the last few days have taken it out of her and I know she hasn't been sleeping well despite her arguments otherwise.

"Would you like to stay?' I ask her softly. "Cody can sleep in a guest room."

She sighs. "I'd like to, but we should get home. I need to get Cody back on a regular schedule," she says regretfully.

I sigh in disappointment, but stand up with her anyway. With perfect timing that can only be pulled off by Jason Taylor, I get a text saying that he's back. I reply, asking him to take Ana and Cody home. "Taylor can take you if you like," I say. Otherwise I will be tempted to persuade her to stay, and I know I'll succeed.

"He doesn't have to do that," Ana says disapprovingly. "He's been driving all day. I can get a cab."

I shake my head. "Taylor will take you home," I say firmly. Like I'd ever allow her to take a cab home. "It's no trouble, really."

"I'll wait for you in the car, Miss Steele."

We both turn at the sound of Taylor's voice. I look at Ana smugly. She rolls her eyes. "Thank you, Taylor."

"Besides," I say, "Cody's car seat is already installed in the car with your luggage."

"Okay, okay," she says, holding her hands up in surrender before carefully picking up Cody without waking him.

I lead them to the foyer where Sawyer is stepping out of the elevator with the rest of my things.

"I have to take the night off," he informs me. "But Ryan will take my spot outside Miss Steele's building and I'll resume my duties in the morning."

I nod, recalling Taylor mentioning this to me at some point earlier in the week. "Very well," I say. "Enjoy your evening."

"Thank for this week, Luke," Ana says, smiling at him. Is it just me or do the smiles they exchange seem similar to the one José Rodriguez gave her the other day? I shake my head, knowing I'm being paranoid. Ana isn't that girl. And Sawyer knows me well enough to know I'd fucking kill him.

The exchange barely lasts a second and Sawyer moves past us towards my bedroom, no doubt, to unpack my things and I'm left alone with Ana again. The smile she gives me is brighter than the one she gave Sawyer which reassures me.

"And thank _you_ again for this week," she tells me. "It meant the world having you there and I have no idea how to thank you."

I give her a lecherous smile, because I can't help myself. "Really? You can't think of _anything_ that might go _some_ way to thanking me?"

She gives me a look and I stifle my amusement as I know she's trying to be sincere right now. "Really, though," she says softly, absentmindedly rubbing gentle circles on her sleeping son's back. "Not many people would have done what you did, not for all week. I don't think I would have gotten through this without you."

"You don't have to thank, baby," I chide her gently. And suddenly three words pop into my mind, apparently deciding this is the right time to speak them out loud. I open my mouth to say the words, but they won't form, and I freeze, trying to regain my bearings to attempt it a second time. It's three little fucking words, but they feel so much heavier than that, so foreign. I swallow hard, minutely shaking my head, still going with the truth: "I want to be wherever you are."

She looks at me wide-eyed for a moment, as though she's struggling to say something as well, then she slips a hand into my hair, pulling my head down to reach my lips. Careful not to wake Cody, I move closer to her, my hand cupping her cheek as I surrender to her kiss. There is something different in how our lips and tongues work, something more defining than any words could communicate. It's the kind of kiss that, under other circumstances, would lead me to pick her up in my arms, carry her to my bed, and spend hours worshiping her body with mine.

 _Another time, Grey. Let the girl go home._

Reluctantly, I release her, humming my satisfaction in her show of gratitude. "Well, Miss Steele, if you intend to go home, I suggest you do so now or I might just keep you here anyway," I say huskily. The thought of keeping her here and the things I would do to her while I did run unbidden through my mind and I'm forced to bite back a groan at them.

Looking pleased with the reaction garnered from me, she bites her lip intentionally then backs away. "Another time, then, Mr. Grey," she says slyly. Walking backwards, she doesn't take her eyes off of me as she enters the elevator.

Again, I want to tell her the truth about how I feel about her, but I'm barely able to say the word _I_ as the elevator doors shut, blocking them from me. I wish now I had driven them home myself, if only so I could have a few extra minutes with them. Once the elevator display shows they're in the garage, I force to turn myself away and head into my study. Tomorrow, it's back to work and I can't recall ever dreading going into the office. It's been my home away with home, my best distraction during the week, and the only place I ever felt untouchable. Now, though, I'd rather be inside an SUV making its way to the other side of Seattle.

First things first, I need to make an appointment with Flynn—the sooner, the better. Anastasia Steele has turned my whole life upside down. And while it's true that I've grown to enjoy it, I need to know if this life is maintainable for somebody like me with all my baggage or if once the initial stages of getting to know one another ends, Ana will see what lies behind the man who seems to have captured her interest, possibly her heart, if I'm truly lucky. I would keep this mask on for the rest of my life if it meant that I don't lose her. It may not be possible but, I'll do my damned best; though I'm sure Flynn will have plenty to say on the matter—probably something about the need to be my true self around her.

She wouldn't like that. I think about how I am with most people, my family, even: impatient, emotionless, short, uncaring, heartless. I feel like who I am with Ana is more of an act than any I've put on for anybody in my entire life. Relationships require honesty, therefore if I want a relationship with Ana, she has to know it all, every side of me, even if she doesn't like what she may see.

I shake myself. I need to get my shit together after twenty-four years of fighting it and repressing it. Flynn has told me the past is the past and there is no point looking back, because it can't be changed. All we can do is look forward and work for what we want. When he said that, my goal was simply to get over my nightmares and to build my company as big as I could make it. Well, it's different now; a new path has appeared before me, yet I still hesitate to take it. I don't know if it's reluctance for Ana's sake or because I'm so set in my ways about upsetting the natural order— _my_ natural order—that I just don't want it to change. And I don't know if it's fear because the only time I cared for another person the way I care for Ana, I was four years old and left with the corpse of my mother.

Because I don't have the answers and can't even begin to know where to find them, I do what is in my power right now. First, I set up an alert to inform me when and if Ana sells her father's home. She doesn't want to give it up despite all her bravado that it wouldn't bother her. If I purchase it for her, it could be an occasional getaway for her and Cody. Even if she and I don't work out, at least she'll have the comfort and memories of the home where she grew up.

Secondly, and I know if this one isn't done carefully, Ana's sense of independence and pride will be greatly insulted, I begin looking into prime real estate for a bakery. Mia has been quietly hinting about her interest in opening one since she found out both Shannon and Ana have an interest in it. Well, it started with quiet hinting. For the last couple of weeks, she's become more insistent, more annoying, more... Mia. I respect Ana for wanting to find work for herself and I would never look down at her for working menial jobs, but she could be so much more. I know that. And if she would only admit it, she knows it, too. So I can get the ball rolling on a bakery, claiming it was Mia who pushed me to do it, then talk to Shannon about getting Ana on board. Of course, Ana is far from stupid; she'll know I had a hand in it and not simply because my baby sister hounded me about it.

Once those tasks are completed, which takes longer than it probably should since I've been texting back and forth with Ana, I turn my attention to work. My calendar this week is so full I'm not sure I could find time to breathe let alone spend an evening with Ana. I have breakfast meetings and dinner meetings. A trip down to WSU Vancouver which will take most of the day. Back-to-back meetings during the other days. There was a time when I preferred it this way—I thrived, even. But my mood has already sullied knowing the chances of seeing Ana before the weekend are slim at best. The only possible opportunity is on Wednesday evening. One of my scheduled dinner meetings is with Elena. I'll be removing that from my schedule, but another problem presents itself: Do I spend Wednesday evening with Ana and Cody or do I place a session with Flynn in that open spot? I know which I would prefer, but I know which is necessary at this juncture. So with the utmost reluctance and bitterness, I schedule with Flynn.

It's late by the time I'm rubbing my eyes against the blurring of characters on my computer screen. For the first time in a long time, Gail brought my dinner into my study, giving me a smile that might have been sympathetic, but I'm not certain nor do I know why I would need Gail's sympathy. Yawning, I get out of my chair, shut everything down and slowly pad to my bedroom. I smile, looking around the penthouse, recalling Ana's words the first time I brought her here, that it was big and lovely. I don't know about lovely, but it's certainly a little colder, lonelier without her here. And my bed seems larger and emptier than it ever has. It's a hell of a change from sleeping in a double bed with Ana. I'd take that over the biggest, most comfortable bed money can buy.

I'm exhausted. Perhaps the week has caught up with me as well. I'm nearly asleep before I can get out of my clothes and fall into bed, and I dream about Cody running around laughing and enjoying himself while Ana and look on, happier than either of us has ever been. I won't remember the dream in the morning nor the moment when my hand reaches out to rest on Ana's swollen, pregnant belly.

* * *

Just as I predicted, my week is hell. Even on the nights when I manage to finish work earlier than anticipated, Ana has a shift at the coffee shop where she's begun work. That doesn't mean I don't get to see her at all, though; I've somehow found time in my ridiculous schedule nearly every day to walk down a few blocks from Grey House for a cup of coffee when Ana takes her breaks. The first time I showed up at her work, she seemed embarrassed that I was seeing her in her work uniform complete with apron and baseball cap sporting the name of the coffee shop, but I quickly proved to her I don't give a damn what she wears.

What has gotten annoying about the coffee shop are the other women, older and younger than Ana, who giggle like schoolgirls when I walk in the door. One of the younger girls, probably around nineteen, actually tried to slip me her phone number. Thankfully Ana didn't see; I wouldn't want there to be any dissent in the workplace for her. I made a point of ripping up the number right in front of the girl and throwing away the pieces while Ana was in back getting her purse.

On Wednesday evening, I had my appointment with Dr. Flynn, who spent a lot of our session amused at my expense. He let me talk for half an hour or so, pacing the office in agitation, before I finally ran out of steam and dropped to the couch. He kept that stupid smirk on his face for a bit longer, finally giving me his two cents which amounted to how I should stop being so hard on myself and it's completely normal for someone to be apprehensive in terms of a new relationship. When I mentioned the point that has really thrown me off, the whole falling in love with Ana thing, John simply smiled and said he'd worked that out on his own.

During our appointment, my phone rang in my pocket. I reached for it before I realized, hoping it was Ana, but one look at the display, and my mood dropped. It was a text, from Elena, wondering if I intended to keep our dinner meeting. After seeing it on my calendar the other night and making a mental note to cancel it, I'd forgotten about it. I shook my head and tossed it on the couch beside me. When Flynn asked me about it, I told him and he proceeded to delve a little into my relationship with Elena in recent months since meeting Anastasia. It was nothing I hadn't thought before a hundred times—that if given half a chance, Elena would do everything within her significant power to ruin what I have with Ana and Cody; and how would I feel if someday I learned somebody had done to Cody what Elena had done to me. I found myself getting defensive, just as I always do when Elena is brought up. Elena never forced me to do anything I didn't want to do. If I'd wanted, I could have walked away at anytime and that would have been the end of it. Flynn countered, telling me I still need to face the truth of what really happened, that I was a biased participant and needed to be an unbiased observer. He asked why, if my relationship with Elena wasn't as bad as I think it was, have I not told my parents about it?

I left that session pissed off, partially at Flynn, mostly at myself. I know Flynn was trying to make a point—several points—to get me to see that Elena wasn't the good influence on me that I've believed her to be. I don't know what would have happened to me if Elena and I hadn't had our affair. She always told me I'd be dead or in prison, and I believed her, because I felt as though I had no self-worth at that point. I didn't believe I could ever do anything worthwhile for society. But perhaps I would have somehow straightened myself out enough to get through high school without being expelled from every school in a twenty-mile radius. Maybe I would have still gotten into Harvard, made friends, gotten a girlfriend. GEH might still have been possible, though perhaps not as soon as I would have preferred without Elena's seed money.

I've been thinking about that for two days now and every time, my thoughts lead me down the same path. If I weren't the man I am at this moment in time with everything I have in my past, I may not have met Anastasia Steele at all, or if I had, I may not have been in a position to do anything about it. The thought of being grateful to Elena Lincoln for meeting Ana in the first place makes me sick and falls under the category of _never tell Ana about that particular thought_. As it is, proceedings continue to separate Esclava from GEH, despite Ros's confusion on the matter. The salons have been a surprisingly lucrative sideline for me, not that I need the extra income. Parting with them will be a small price to pay to keep Ana in my life.

Today, I'll spend my time in Vancouver at the university to see the progress made in the farming department. Ros will be with me and she has spent all week being overly excited about flying with me in _Charlie Tango_. But before I meet her at Grey House, I'm stopping at my new favorite coffee shop, and it has nothing to do with their coffee.

It's still a little early for the morning rush so I don't have to worry about Ana being too busy to talk for a few minutes. I enter and find her immediately behind the counter scooping coffee beans into a grinder. I lean against the counter and just look at her for a minute. She's wearing jeans, tight jeans that show off her ass perfectly. I try not to think about how many other men, and possibly women, who have those same thoughts about her.

"What's good today?" I ask, getting her attention.

She spins around, smiling brightly. "I suppose that depends on what you're looking for," she says primly.

I smirk. "Well, I doubt what I'm looking for can be found in a coffee cup," I reply huskily.

Biting her lip against a smile, she comes around the counter and is in my arms, kissing me. Holding me. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the morning, Mr. Grey?" she asks, sounding a little dazed.

"Early flight to Portland," I tell her, resting my lips on her forehead. "Ros and I will be gone for the day, probably until late evening. And I missed you."

She smiles delightedly. "Did you now?" she asks. I nod slowly. "Well, that's interesting, isn't it?"

She's teasing me again. I love it.

"Would you like some coffee?" she asks sweetly.

"I could think of a number of things I would like more than coffee," I reply as she moves back around the counter, "but if I'm to deal with Ros on my own with all her excitement over her first helicopter ride, then I will need that coffee."

Ana chuckles and goes about making a couple lattes for Ros and me while I slip money into the tip jar since I know she has no intention of charging me.

"So tomorrow," I begin, "my mother has commanded that the family come to the house for a barbecue and I've been ordered to ensure you and Cody are there as well."

She glances at me through her hair. "Ordered you, huh?"

I smile. "Well, I would have invited you nonetheless, but it seems my mother has already come to regard you as part of the family," I say proudly.

Ana's face is hidden as she looks down, her hat blocking my view of her, but when she looks up, it's with a tight, wary smile on her face. There is something about that expression that makes me apprehensive, but this is neither the time nor place to ask her about it. I glance over my shoulder as the door opens and I scowl at the people entering to get their morning caffeine fix. This is has been the only time this week Ana and I have spent alone for more than two minutes and it hasn't been nearly as satisfying as I'd have wanted it to be. Perhaps tomorrow night, Ana can come to Escala or I can go to her apartment, and we can spend some real time together.

It's then that I realize she hasn't accepted my invitation to my parents' house. "So, tomorrow? Will you be gracing us with your presence?" I ask softly as she places the paper coffee cups on the counter in front of me.

She glances around as though the answer is written on the walls somewhere. Would she rather not go for some reason? I begin to tell her it's fine if she doesn't want to be surrounded by my family, particularly as she so recently lost her father, but she nods. "Yeah," she says, her light tone as forced as the smile on her face. "We'd like that." She glances around again as though searching for eavesdroppers. The thought that she may be ashamed of being seen with me pops unbidden into my mind, but I shake it off. "Um, should we meet you there, or..."

"I'll pick you up, say around one?" I suggest.

"Yeah, sure," she says, distracted. "I need to..." She gestures at the line building up at the register.

I nod. "Of course. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Her expression finally softens. "Fly safely, please, Mr. Grey," she says sternly.

Chuckling, I lean over to give her a quick peck on the lips. "I always do, Miss Steele," I assure her, taking the coffee cups and weaving through the line of customers towards the door. I glance back at Ana, hoping to find her watching me, but either she's intentionally avoiding my gaze or she's too busy to look at me. I choose to believe the latter; the former shoots my anxiety levels so high I wish I'd taken Flynn up on the few times he's offered to prescribe something for me.

I don't linger on those thoughts. Like Ana, I've got a busy day ahead of me myself and over thinking will only make the situation worse.

* * *

Despite Ana's strange behavior this morning, today has gone well. The money I've donated to help fund WSU's environmental sciences department has been put to very good use an the results of their work will go a long way to helping GEH's continued work with the farming division. Given what I saw today, there is no question as to whether I will provide additional funding for their very impressive work.

As we drove through the campus, I begin to imagine Ana roaming from class-to-class with her friends, studying in the library, and whatever else she would have done if she hadn't gotten pregnant. She hardly ever talks about it, but I've always gotten the impression that while she doesn't regret having Cody, she regrets being unable to graduate with her class. Not graduating from Harvard never bothered me; I didn't need a degree to get where I am today, because I knew how I wanted to do things and had the means and the drive to get started when I was twenty-one. Unfortunately we live in a world where most decent paying jobs are unavailable without a college degree, which leaves those without one with the menial, low paying jobs. It's a shame really, as there is some really amazing talent in the world that is being looked over simply because that person doesn't have a piece of paper to show they completed four years at an expensive school.

On the trip home, I took Ros on a slight detour to see Mount Saint Helens. She was practically giddy and to say thanks, she invited me to have dinner with her, Gwen, and the kids. Since I was unable to reach Ana on the phone when we landed, I accepted the invitation. It was enjoyable. Ros and Gwen are the closest people I have as friends and they are always very hospitable towards me. I think they feel sorry for me sitting in a huge, empty penthouse on my own with nothing to occupy myself but work. Much like with my family's previous belief regarding my sex life, I find it amusing. If only any of them knew...

By ten o'clock, we've gone through several bottles of wine between the three of us and I'm feeling rather buzzed. I haven't drank in excess for years and I know when to stop before it escalates. Thankfully, Escala is little more than a two block walk or I'd call Taylor for a ride. I wave off their concerns about going off on my own and start towards home.

Ana still hasn't contacted me, which isn't like her. Normally she'll send a text message at least to let me know she's home or to share a story about a particularly difficult customer she had to deal with, but there's nothing. Realizing I'm slightly drunker than I previously thought, it takes me a moment, and a stop to lean against a building to keep my balance, but I manage to find Ana's number in my contacts and call her myself.

To my displeasure, my call goes straight to voicemail, so I leave a message, despite my better judgment. "Hey, baby," I say, trying to sound seductive. In reality, which I will realize when I sober up, I'm slurring my words badly. "I missed you today. Seeing you this morning wasn't nearly enough. I wish I had you in my bed every night; I think you'd be amazed at what I could do to you if you were..." I have to shift to accommodate my growing erection at the thought. "Maybe I could give you a demonstration tomorrow night. Your place or mine, baby?" I snigger. "Good night, Anastasia. Pleasant dreams."

Tomorrow morning I'll wonder whether she understood a word I said. Even I could hear the slurring towards the end of the call.

Somehow I make it home without incident and stumble to the fridge for a glass of water that I gulp down over the sink, then head to the first aid kit for a couple Advil as I know I'll regret it in the morning if I don't take some now. After my second glass of water, I make a mental note to not let Ros and Gwen convince me to drink with them again. Armed with a third water glass, I move towards the window overlooking the city, not thinking about anything in particular. Once the water has started to go to work, helping me sober up very slightly, I decide it's probably safe to make the walk to my bed where I intend to fall, possibly fully clothed, onto the mattress to pass out.

My intentions fall to the wayside when I hear the faint noise of the elevator opening. I set my glass on the counter and move towards the foyer curiously. I've never been concerned about a break-in. The penthouse is on the 30th floor, the elevator requires a passcode to come up here and that is changed bi-monthly at Taylor's insistence, and my security team monitors the comings and goings of people via cameras placed strategically in the foyer. As far as the passcode goes, only family and close friends know it; everyone else must check in downstairs and be escorted up by my security.

I don't often have late, unannounced visitors apart from Elliot and usually after he's spent an evening out drinking and flirting with the wrong girls who began to stalk him. He'd come here to hide or for protection, or just to annoy me. But as I reach the foyer, I spot the one person who's arrival could never annoy me, and her presence is a better hangover cure than any other I've ever known.

"Ana, what are you doing here?" I ask, my voice sharper than I intended. "Is everything all right?"

She doesn't speak. Her blank expression doesn't shift. She is beginning to worry me when she slowly slips her purse off her shoulder and sets it on the foyer table before approaching me, not taking her eyes off of mine for even a second. I want to ask her again if she's all right, but before I can, she reaches me, slides her fingers into my hair and pulls me down to her lips, kissing me fiercely. It takes a second for my surprise to subside and once it does, my own hands cup her face, tilting her head back enough to really kiss her.

There is something different in this kiss. Perhaps if I hadn't been drinking all night and wasn't distracted by the way her body feels in my hands, I might be able to identify what that something is. All I know is that it's nothing I've felt before. As it is, I couldn't give a shit about asking more questions. I turn her so that I can press her against the wall, my hips holding her in place while my hands wander. Her hands are more adventurous as well. For once when her hands slide around to my back, I don't pull them away. I want her hands there and everywhere else all at once.

For a few minutes, we grind against each other and nothing has ever felt more right. I reach down and pull her legs up to wrap them around me. I could fuck her right here against the wall of my foyer; the way she's kissing me right now, she wants that.

Finally, she speaks, barely pulling her lips from mine. "Bed," she whispers, her voice needy.

It's the best idea I've ever heard in my life. On the way to my bedroom, I very nearly drop her when her lips move down to my chin, to my ear where she sucks on the lobe, teasing me with her teeth, then to my neck.

In my bedroom, I place her back on her feet and catch my breath. This hasn't happened before. Ana hasn't been shy when it comes to sex, but tonight she's wanton, desperate. The only other woman in my life who has ever taken charge was Elena. That had nothing to do with passion or feelings or anything but her satisfaction. I don't know what's gotten into her tonight, but that's a question for later.

"Now what, Miss Steele?" I breathe, loving how her skin pinks while she catches her breath.

She smiles seductively, reaching out for my hand and tugging me towards the bed where she pushes me into a sitting position on the edge. Backing up, she begins to pull the tight t-shirt she's wearing up by the hem, slowly revealing herself to me. Her shirt is off, leaving her torso only in her bra; she reaches behind her to the clasp. I watch her practically salivating at the sight. She's beautiful, and there are times that I don't think she knows just how attractive she really is. That makes me want to show her over and over how I feel about her body, but she's out of reach and I'm rather enjoying this little strip tease. We will have to revisit this idea another time.

Her bra is off and she tosses it at me—it lands on my head, and I laugh, quickly removing it so I can see what was hiding behind it—her perfect tits. Ana is smirking and it seems she used the time that I was temporarily blinded to remove her socks and shoes. Now her hands slide slowly up her legs. My amusement is long gone as her fingers begin to unbutton her jeans and pull down her zipper. I'd love nothing more right now than to help her out of those tight jeans, but watching her shimmy them down her legs is just as appealing.

Only her panties remain now, but she doesn't seem to be in a rush to remove them just yet.

"Need some help?" I offer huskily.

She shakes her head slowly, closing the distance between us. Standing between my legs, she leans down to kiss me again. I can't resist the urge to slide my hands up and down her smooth, shapely legs. Just as I'm about to grab her by the waist and drop her onto the bed, she pulls away enough to remove my clothes. This time she's in a rush to get me naked. I happily lift my hips off the bed so that she can take off my pants.

I'm in nothing but my boxers when she finishes and I wonder what she has planned next when she slowly drops to her knees between my legs. She begins kissing my right leg starting with my ankle, moving up slowly until I'm panting and getting frustrated that my erection is still mostly concealed, and perhaps she senses that; she hooks her fingers into the band and I lift myself enough so that she can pull them all the way off.

The next thing I know, her lips are wrapped around my dick, sheathing her teeth as she slides her mouth down my shaft as far as she can take me. I cry out in pleasure, gently cupping her head because I need to touch her, focusing on the feel of her warm, wet mouth as she picks up the pace.

"Jesus, Ana," I groan. Her lips buzz around me as she hums. She's enjoying this almost as much as I am... But I'm getting close and I'm not done with her. "Ana, I'm going to come and I don't want to do it in your mouth." I'm practically begging her at this point, but she doubles down at my words.

I'm lost. Lost in the feel of her, the sight of her, the obvious enjoyment she's getting from _my_ enjoyment. This woman... she's perfect. She's everything I didn't know I wanted and as I get closer and closer to my orgasm, I want to tell her exactly that and that I love her, but before I can, she un-sheaths her teeth and oh so gently drags them along the length of me, sucking hard on the head until I tighten my fingers in her hair, possibly nearly to the point of pain, but neither of us minds as I come loudly and hard into her mouth. She moans around me, taking it all until there is nothing left.

Once my senses return, I reach down for to grab her shoulders, pulling her up on top of me as I move us to the head of the bed. My intention is to roll over and press her into the mattress so I can fuck her for as long as we can stand it, but she pushes her knee firmly into the bed, refusing to roll over and I give in to whatever she wants, sliding her panties down her legs as we continue to kiss wildly. I can still taste myself on her...

She doesn't waste any time positioning herself over me, and thankfully I'm already hard again as she very slowly slides me into her. She moves just as slowly, looking down on me, and I don't dare blink, not when she's watching me like that. I reach for her hands resting above my shoulders, locking my fingers with hers, and it's like nothing I've ever experienced. This isn't fucking; this is love making. This is two people expressing the way they feel about one another even if they can't say the words out loud.

Leaning down, she kisses me deeply, pressing her body into mine and I release her fingers to wrap my arms around her back, securing her to me, suddenly needing her as close to me as possible. Her soft moans against my lips are like music to my ears and I can no longer tolerate this slow pace. Bending my knees, I begin to thrust into her, harder and faster the more I elicit louder moans and the little cries of pleasure from her.

"Oh, Ana, you feel so good," I moan, taking her lips again.

Either she doesn't want to respond or she can't, and our combined breathing increases, growing louder the longer we move together.

"Fuck, I'm going to come," I groan. "Tell me you're close, baby."

Her response is to move against me faster and harder, her mouth falling open until finally she cries out, throwing her head back. Immediately, I twist my fingers into her hair, pulling her back down to my lips as her orgasm hits, which spurs me into mine.

"Oh, fuck, Ana," I cry out, holding her tightly against me as she collapses against me.

We lay there for several minutes. I stroke her hair, placing soft kisses against her forehead, and wonder if she's gone to sleep on me. I feel her lips against my neck and reluctantly loosen my grip around her so she can look at me. She's smiling sleepily.

"Not that I'm complaining in the slightest, but where did that come from?" I ask her.

She shrugs shyly. "I missed you, too," she responds simply, and I laugh, recalling this morning when I told her I missed her and she didn't return the sentiment.

"Did you now? Isn't that interesting?" I reply, repeating her words from earlier. She bites back a smile and kisses my chin.

Reluctantly, I roll us onto our sides and pull out of her, but don't release her. Instead, I run the back of my fingers down her cheek. "You're very beautiful, do you know that?" I ask her in a murmur. She averts her gaze. "You are, though, Anastasia."

"And you're very sweet," she says, clearly trying to change the subject.

Something in her gaze changes and I recall my thoughts when she first arrived, that something was wrong. "Are you staying tonight?" I ask.

"Unless you'd rather I leave," she says, her voice teasing. "Shannon was over tonight and she took Cody home with her. They'll meet us at your parents' house tomorrow."

"I don't want you to leave." _Not tonight, not any night._ "Somehow I don't think missing me is the only reason you came here tonight."

She looks down and I know I'm right. I tilt her chin back up, she pulls it from my fingers, and sighs. "Shannon encouraged it," she tells me. "I called her to come over tonight because I got a phone call that upset me."

I frown, wondering if she means my phone call. Perhaps she was worried when she heard my drunken words. "From who?" I ask her softly.

Her gaze meets mine again, and this time it's troubled as she whispers, "Preston."


	14. Chapter 14

I stare at Ana, doing my level best to control my natural urge to shout at her and ask why the fuck she didn't call me. I think she realizes I'm on the edge, because she begins to speak.

"It was a phone call," she says quickly. "It was from a Portland phone number that I didn't recognize, so I didn't answer it; I sent it straight to voicemail. A message was left, so I listened to it. He was drunk—much drunker than you were in your message." She gives me a teasing smile, but I'm not amused. Sighing, she continues. "Anyway, he threatened me like he did when he came to my apartment. He is still saying that he wants to be in Cody's life, that he can raise Cody better than I ever could. He's threatening a custody battle, and with his father and whoever else he can buy to help him, and I have..."

I see her sudden concern and even fear as she says this. "Don't you worry about that," I tell her firmly. "Even if he had a case with a restraining order against him in your name, do you really think I'd let you walk into a courtroom with some lawyer whose name you found on the back of a fucking bus? Whatever lawyers he could find would be no better compared to what I could get for you. And the moment _my_ father, who I promise you could kick Preston's daddy's ass in court any day, hears about any of this, he'll be more than happy to donate his time or the time of his partners for the case."

"And while I appreciate that, Preston isn't above skipping the legal ways of getting Cody," she says. "He could take my son and disappear before I even know Cody is missing."

I shake my head. "Not with my security team," I remind her. Frowning suddenly, I recall what she said earlier. "You said Cody is with Shannon? I can send Taylor..."

"It's okay," Ana assures me. "Ryan followed me here, made sure I got into the elevator, and went to Shannon's to keep an eye on them. And her building's security is much better than mine, so..."

I sigh. "Yes, about that... I know you like your apartment and you chose it because it was affordable, but the two of you need more. You need security, particularly from your ex. What if he sends one of his shitbag friends up to slip past my security team for the express purpose of harming you and taking Cody? I'm not suggesting you move into my building or even into my apartment, but something more secure..."

Her expression is blank, then suddenly she sits up and throws her legs over the side of the bed, looking around. I think I've fucked up and that she is about to leave, but she reaches to the floor for the shirt I was wearing earlier. Wrapping herself in it, she buttons it, then turns to look at me. "I'm thirsty," she murmurs.

A moment later, she is leaving the room in only my shirt and I jump up to quickly pull on some pajama pants so I can chase after her. I want to see her long legs on display only for me, and make sure I haven't offended her with my talk about apartments.

To my great surprise, when I reach Anastasia in the kitchen, she's poured herself a glass of wine. Glancing at me after she's had a sip, she asks, "Would you like some?"

I snort. "I've had plenty of wine tonight," I say wryly. "That's what happens when you let friends keep pouring your drinks."

"Friends?" she asks curiously, cautiously. I wonder if she's thinking of Elena.

"Ros and her partner Gwen invited me for dinner after we returned from Vancouver," I explain. "I was hoping to come see you, but you weren't answering..."

She nods. "After Preston called, I turned off my phone and called Shannon."

"Why not me?" I ask immediately. It's the question that bothered me when she first mentioned Shannon's involvement.

She sighs. "Habit, mostly," she says. "And judging by the sound of your voice in the message you left, it was probably best I didn't tell you until later."

I can't really argue with that, however much I would like to. "Well, in the future, if something like this happens again, I want to know about it. I can't do anything to help if I don't know about it."

She nods, much to my surprise. "Fair enough," she murmurs, finishing off her wine. When I notice her staring at me as I get myself yet another glass of water, I raise a questioning eyebrow at her. "You're very muscular, Mr. Grey," she says hoarsely.

I smirk. "And?"

She shakes her head slowly. "And... I very much enjoy looking at you," she says faintly.

"Only looking?" I ask, slowly approaching her. I take the wine glass from her hand and place it on the countertop.

"And touching," she says, running a hand down my left arm. "And kissing." She leans up to kiss my chin. "And feeling you pressed against me."

"Really?" I ask, hiding my smile. "You mean like this?" I reach for her hips, pulling her close to me, then lifting her so that she can wrap her legs around my hips. She nods slowly. "Hmm... I imagine I can press myself even closer to you, Miss Steele. Shall we find out?"

I don't wait for her answer to capture her lips with mine and once again make my way to the bedroom.

* * *

I wake late in the morning, which is understandable since Ana and I didn't actually fall asleep until three in the morning. As we finally did close our eyes, I held her closely, nestling against her until there wasn't an inch of our skin that didn't touch and my nose was buried in her hair. Considering that, it's no surprise what's wakened me: my arms are empty and the spot beside me is cooler than it should be.

It's also no surprise that Ana has disappeared. Every time we spend the night together, whether at my place or hers, she makes breakfast and it's always delicious. And like always, I'm eager to go to the kitchen to find her. My shirt is missing again; she's wearing it. This might bother me on a weekday since my security team tends to come and go freely if they need to speak with me. But it's Saturday. Gail is off on weekends and she and Taylor are spending the weekend with his daughter, Sophie.

Wearing only my PJ pants again, I set off to the kitchen and find my girl cooking what looks to be French toast, bacon, and eggs while her hips move to the music she's picked to listen to this morning. She is quite possibly the least graceful woman I've ever known, but I love how she moves with me. Silently I cross the room to wrap my arms around her. Unfortunately she stops moving and leans her head back, smiling.

"Good morning," she says.

"And you, Miss Steele," I murmur, leaning down for a kiss. She hums contentedly against my lips before going back to cooking. "French toast, not pancakes?"

She shrugs. "I was in the mood," she says dismissively.

"Did you sleep well?" I ask, resting my chin on her head.

"I did. You?"

I nod carefully. "I always sleep well with you," I admit. I enjoy holding her for a few more minutes before starting coffee and tea, the setting the breakfast bar.

As we eat, we steal looks at each other whenever possible like teenagers. Every time I catch her staring, Ana blushes, leaving me in little doubt that she's thinking about last night. Whenever I think about it, everything we did together and to one another, I smirk. They are very good memories.

The only bad thing to happen last night was the reason that urged her to come here in the first place. Despite how enjoyable a time Ana and I are having, it's something I need to discuss with her.

"So about Preston's phone call," I say quietly. She pauses with her fork in mid-air. "Do you have it saved or did you delete it?"

She sighs. "I saved it. I had to after I called the police to file another report," she says. "It's pointless, but the only way to build any sort of case against him is to have everything on record."

I nod. "That is true," I agree. "But perhaps you ought to change your phone number."

She snorts a humorless laugh. "That'll just piss him off and have him at my door again," she says darkly. "And please, don't bring up the new apartment thing again. You know I can't afford it and I can't let you pay for it for me."

"Of course you can let me," I argue. "You just don't want to. Look, if you don't want me paying your rent in a new apartment, then consider temporarily moving into one of the places my company keeps for visiting business partners, or potential partners. They're fully furnished, comfortable, and secure. And you'll be closer to me and to work. If something happens, I'll only be a short distance rather than twenty minutes, depending on traffic. Just think about it, Ana. I won't force you, but I will be as convincing as I need to be."

Sighing heavily, she holds her hands up in surrender. "Okay, I'll think about it," she replies wearily.

"And I'd like to listen to that voicemail."

"No, Christian, you really wouldn't," she warns. I glare at her. She looks away. "Look, if we have time, I need to go home to shower and change before going to your parents' house. Listen to it if you want while I'm in the shower."

Though she hasn't finished her food, she takes her plate and empties it into the trash before walking past me back to the bedroom. Sighing, I finish the last few bites of my breakfast before placing my plate in the sink and following Ana to my bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I lean against it as I watch Ana find the clothes she discarded last night, obviously ignoring me as she pulls on her socks and shoes.

"Don't be mad at me," I plead quietly. "I'm only trying to help. If you don't want me to listen, I won't. But I want to know exactly how he's threatening you and you clearly don't want to relive the details, so..."

She looks up at me, her expression softening. "I'm not mad at you," she say quietly. "I'm pissed because it seems that every time I find even a little bit of peace and happiness, something happens to fuck it all up."

I walk to her, kneeling down in front of her and taking her hands. "That's what he wants," I tell her gently. "He wants to upset you and to scare you and to make you believe you can't have anything good in your life. He's fucking wrong, Ana. You can have good things, you deserve nothing _but_ good things. Yes, he's a problem, but problems can be solved. You just have to decide how to best deal with this problem."

She smiles wryly. "I've tried ignoring him; it doesn't work," she says. "But I get your point. And you're right. He can only bother me if I let him. Thank you."

I lean up to kiss her slowly, deeply, mostly to reassure her, partially to say "you're welcome." Humming in pleasure, I back away. "You know, you could shower here," I tell her. "And I don't see anything wrong with what you're wearing now..."

"I could, but as we're going to your parents' house to spend the afternoon with your family, I think I should find something else to wear."

"But you look lovely," I argue.

"And I thank you for that, but it doesn't change my decision."

Sighing dramatically, I stand, pulling her to her feet. "As you wish, Miss Steele. Give me fifteen minutes?" I request.

She nods and I wink, heading into the bathroom for a quick shower. I would much prefer showering with her, but given how tenuously the last fifteen minutes have gone, it's probably best I don't ask. I finish and dry off, shave quickly, and run a hand through my hair, not bothering to comb it; it does what it wants. I rush through getting dressed when I find Ana is no longer in the room. Instead, she is sitting at the breakfast bar. Our dishes from before are no longer in the sink and she's on the phone. Since she's smiling, I suspect she's talking to Cody or Shannon.

"Well, thank you again," she says, spotting me. "We'll see you in a bit."

While she wraps up her call, I gather my keys, wallet, and jacket. "Everything okay?" I ask, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and kissing her hair.

"Just checking on Cody. Elliot's there, so the two of them are making Shannon a little insane," she says, seemingly happy about this. "It's nice to have a break once in a while."

Chuckling, I release her. "Shall we, then? Otherwise Shannon might dump Cody _and_ Elliot here and your break will be over," I reply, smirking.

She laughs, taking my hand and grabbing her purse so I can lead her to the elevator. On the way down, I grow bored almost immediately and press her into the wall, kissing her for as long as I can. Were we on the way up, I might consider fucking her against this wall.

"We're not going to my car?" she asks, confused.

I shake my head. "No. I thought we'd take mine. That way, you have no choice but to come back here this evening," I say smugly.

She narrows her eyes, hiding her smile, and continues to follow me.

* * *

While Ana showers, I listen to the voicemail her ex left her. When it's finished, it takes every ounce of self-discipline I have ever possessed not to start breaking things. Threats are one thing, but the names he called her which varied from bitch all the way to cunt and worse are something entirely different. He claims he wants to raise his son because Ana is useless and incapable of providing properly for him—he even made the claim that it will be a matter of months before they're living on the streets. His final threat was implied—now that Ana's dad is dead, she has nobody to protect her or for her to hide behind. Which means he doesn't yet know about me, and I'm fine with that. I prefer it. I want to see the look of shock on his face when he realizes it's me beating the shit out of him.

"I told you you didn't want to listen to it," Ana says, now dressed in a light blue summer dress.

I sigh. "No, but I needed to hear it. He's quite the charmer," I say, grinding my teeth together.

"Yeah, well, this might piss you off even more, but that isn't even the worst of what he's said to me."

I don't ask for details, doubting my ability to hold onto my temper if I do and she answers.

"So... Should I bring anything to your parents' house?" Ana asks, looking nervous again. I'm not sure if it's because she knows I'm angry or if it's at the prospect of spending the day with my family.

I manage to give her a smile. "No," I assure her. "Knowing my parents, my dad will do the grilling, my mother will come up with a selection of side dishes, and Mia will have made a dessert. Elliot will insist on drinking as much as my mother will let him and they'll all just be shocked that I actually showed up."

Ana laughs, but I wonder if she realizes the truth in my statement. "You don't like your family?" she asks me.

I have some trouble answering her question when she suddenly straddles me, resting her arms on my shoulders while she plays with the ends of my hair. "No, I do," I say hoarsely. It's difficult to speak with her pressed against me like this. "But usually, I have other things that fill my time. Work or..." I trail off, unwilling to finish that statement. The only other thing that filled my weekend was submissives, and that already feels like it's been another lifetime rather than just a few months ago.

The look on Ana's face tells me she knows how it was going to end anyway. "We should probably go, then," she says innocently, trying to move away with me.

I grab onto her and she laughs until I silence her with my lips. Tempted though I am to say fuck going to my parents' house, we can be late, I remember that Cody is meeting us there. Ana tends to dislike being separated from him for too long, which will make taking her away for a weekend a challenge...

I've decided that rather than blurt out my feelings for Ana while we're eating dinner or watching a movie or one of the other ways I've wanted to tell her, I'll take her away next weekend and hope I can make it romantic for her. Hearts and flowers. Wha the fuck do I know about that shit? I'm still narrowing down locations—so far I have Aspen, New York, or my yacht. I'll broach the subject with her tonight or tomorrow and hope we can get away next weekend.

"What's wrong?" she asks the longer I'm quiet.

"Nothing," I say quickly. She doesn't believe me. "We should go. My mother will wonder where we are soon."

* * *

The drive to Bellevue is quiet. Ana seems as lost in her thoughts as I am in mine, though I don't know if that's because of my change in mood or if she's thinking about the phone call from her ex. By the time we pull into my parents' driveway, I feel guilty. I'd taken it upon myself to distract her from last night's drama, yet here I am brooding over something that would probably be so easy for other men, worrying that she might not feel the same. If I were to sit and think about it, all the signs that she in fact does are right there in front of me.

Last night she could have stayed in her apartment with her son and Shannon, but she came to me. It could have been because Shannon encouraged her to or it could have been because she didn't feel safe in her home, but she didn't have to come.

It's in the way she looks at me, smiles at me.

Her best friend has said she's never seen Ana so close to another person.

She has accepted me for who I am and for what's in my past, even though she still doesn't have all the gruesome details and she hasn't pushed me for more.

My money doesn't mean a thing to her, which means she likes me for me. She probably needs her head examined on that basis alone, but I'll accept it.

So why hasn't she said the words either? Is it like Shannon said, that's she's afraid to get too attached lest the worst happen and she's left with a broken heart? I can't say I blame her; I don't know about a broken heart, but if I lost her, I'd certainly be broken.

"Ready for this?" I ask her, exaggerating the feeling of dread.

It works. She giggles. "Ready as I'll ever be," she replies, smiling.

I don't bother knocking, knowing the others are probably already in the backyard.

Outside, my dad is predictably at the grill with one of his novelty aprons that says "I turn grills on". I roll my eyes while Ana giggles. My mom, Mia, and Shannon are in conversation at the table, and despite the somewhat early hour, each of them is equipped with something alcoholic. In the yard, Elliot and Cody are playing some imaginary game which mostly involves them chasing each other around.

"Guess they got started without us," I tell Ana, my voice loud enough to draw attention from the others.

Grace beams at the sight of us and stands to hug each of us, ushering us towards the table. "Of course we didn't start without you," she chides me. "You're right on time."

"Christian!"

I turn around as Cody spots me and barrels in my direction, abandoning Elliot. Smiling, I kneel down to catch him as he wraps his arms around my neck. A few moments later, he backs away and starts to run back off to play.

Ana huffs. "What about me?" she demands poutily.

Cody turns around looking sheepish, then returns to greet his mother. "Hi, Mommy," he says, smiling toothily.

"Hi, baby boy," she says, carrying him to the table where I'm holding out a chair for her. "Did you have a fun night with Aunt Shannon?"

"Yeah," he responds, playing with her hair. "Me and Lelliot stayed up till way past bedtime and watched movies and had snacks and we slept on the floor."

I stare at Cody for a moment wondering if I'm the only one who caught his inability to pronounce my brother's name. I used to call him the same when we were kids. I still do occasionally; it's become a term of endearment. Unfortunately, it isn't often I find Elliot endearing.

Ana narrows her eyes, looking between Shannon and Elliot. "Way past bedtime and snacks? Gee, thanks, guys," she says sarcastically.

"Who fell asleep first? I bet it was Elliot," I say. "He's a wimp," I add in a stage whisper. Cody giggles while my brother looks at me like I've betrayed him.

"Shannon," Cody answers, pointing.

"Yeah," Elliot pipes up, sticking his tongue out at Cody. "She's the wimp."

Ana raises an eyebrow. "As always, thank you both for being responsible role models for my son," she says sardonically.

Once everyone settles with drinks around the table and Cody has retrieved his coloring book and crayons from his backpack, I sit back and enjoy myself. Has anything ever made me feel this normal? Sitting outside on a beautiful day, the grill going, my girl beside me, surrounded by family and friends... This is nirvana, right here and now.

"So are you okay?"

I turn towards Ana to find Shannon beside her, her voice little more than a whisper. I suspect she's referring to last night. I squeeze Ana's hand comfortingly.

"Yeah," she assures Shannon. "I'm good. Thanks, by the way."

Shannon waves her off. "That's what friends are for," she says dismissively.

Glancing behind me, I find my dad still at the grill. Ana and I haven't actually discussed this, but I'm at a loss on how to proceed short of hiring the Navy SEALs to guard Ana. Somehow I don't think she'd go for that.

"Excuse me a moment," I say quietly, pressing my lips to Ana's temple, grab my drink, and join Carrick at the grill.

"Well, hi there, son," he says jovially, at least until he sees my expression. "Is everything all right?"

I sigh. "Dad, I need some legal advice," I say heavily.

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Don't you have a whole team of overpriced attorneys to give you advice?" he asks, smirking.

I chuckle. "Yes, but this is more... personal than corporate law," I say pointedly, glancing at Ana.

Carrick follows my gaze and looks back at me suspiciously. "Okay, so what is it?" he asks warily.

"Ana's ex-boyfriend, Cody's father," I say, keeping my voice down. "The short version is that he's an abusive piece of shit who deserves to rot. Until recently, Ana hadn't heard from him since before Cody was born. I'm aware of at least two attempts to make contact with her that involved a lot of threats. Ana has taken to storing a baseball bat near her door. There is a restraining order in place, filed by the ex's father who is a lawyer in Portland and he doesn't seem concerned about its existence. Legally, what are Ana's options?"

"Well," Carrick says, his eyebrows rising briefly, "unfortunately, the restraining order is the best place to begin, assuming Ana is reporting it to the police every time he makes contact. I would suggest having a new order drawn up. It's best not to be beholden to another person legally. Now knowing you, you have one of your security guys looking out for her when you're not with her." My smirk is all the answer he needs. "That's also a good step. But assuming they're not with her and he shows up, she needs to defend herself. You know my feelings and your mother's feelings on guns, but there are circumstances when it's not a bad idea to have one around. If Ana isn't comfortable with that, particularly with a small child running around, perhaps pepper spray is the way to go."

I think back to Montesano when Ana was talking about going through her father's safe. "She has her father's handgun," I say. "I don't know what experience she has handling firearms, she never said anything." I frown at the thought my clumsy, sweet Ana handling a gun. "I'll talk to her about it."

"What sort of threats are we talking from the ex? Threats to harm her and Cody or...?"

I shake my head. "Mostly threats about taking Cody," I answer.

"Is he listed on the birth certificate?" Carrick asks curiously.

"I don't know."

He nods. "Well, talk to Ana and I can probably arrange to get a new restraining order drawn up this week. In the meantime, if you happen to run to this guy, don't do anything stupid to jeopardize any custody battle that may ensue."

"What would I do?" I ask innocently, unable to hide my twitching lips.

Carrick glares at me. "You know full well what I'm talking about, Christian," he says sternly.

I smirk, recalling some of my more impressive fights when I was a teenager. My favorite was when a group of boys cornered me in a locker room because I was "weird". I knocked three of them out before the football coach came to break us up.

My dad shakes his head, probably fully aware where my thoughts have wandered. "Go back and enjoy the time with your girl, Christian. I'll call you later this week when I have definite information for you."

"Thanks, Dad," I say, patting him on the back and finishing off my beer. Thankfully Elliot is waiting with another one for me at the table.

I slide my arm around Ana's shoulders and listen half-heartedly to whatever bullshit story Elliot is trying to pass off as truth to Cody. "Everything okay?" she asks quietly.

I smile at her. "Of course," I assure her. "Just talking to my dad about something."

She eyes me suspiciously, but doesn't get a chance to speak as my mother and Mia start bringing out food.

It still amazes me how much more enjoyable it is spending time with my family when Ana is with me. I'm not sure if the change is in me, that I'm simply happy now and can let myself relax whereas before I was always sidetracked thinking about work or submissives, or simply trying to hide my darkest secrets from my family. I never felt I fit in until now. I could fake it to a point, but always searched for my exit as soon as possible.

What I really enjoy, though, is seeing how my family has so easily embraced Ana and Cody, and how happy they seem to be. I saw firsthand that Ana doesn't come from a large family—she was mostly surrounded by her father's friends—and she is thriving in this environment, easily moving from conversation to conversation, taking my brother's jabs and throwing them back twice as hard. It's impressive and not something many people can handle. My family can be overbearing at times and I grew up with them. I couldn't ever imagine bringing a submissive here—I shudder at the thought.

She laughs at something Mia said to Elliot and I can't help but stare at her. I love her.

* * *

It's late when we get back to Escala. My dad decided he wanted to get the boat out, which of course got Cody excited and meant the entire family piled in and we spent the afternoon on the lake. I taught Cody a few useful knots, or tried to. More often than not, he got a finger caught in the middle. Still, it was fun watching him try.

"Stay tonight," I say to Ana as I pull into my spot in the garage, glancing into the backseat where Cody is fast asleep. "It's late. Cody can sleep in one of the guest rooms and he'll be nearby if he needs anything... I'm not ready for you to go home yet."

I think she might argue, but she smiles. "Okay. Only because I don't work tomorrow, though."

Chuckling, I shut the car off and we get out. Ana gets Cody from the backseat without waking him and we walk to the elevator. With my arm around Ana, I lean against the wall, content.

"Are you sure he'll be okay?" Ana worries as we start out of the guest bedroom just down the hall from my room.

"He'll be fine," I promise, closing the door behind us. "The phone beside the bed is an in-house intercom. I set it so if he calls out for you, it will broadcast to the one in my bedroom. Please don't worry."

She sighs and glances once more at the closed door before following me to the kitchen where I pour each of us a glass of wine. "Trying to get me drunk, Grey?" she asks teasingly.

Smirking, I take the glasses and lead her out to the balcony. It's a beautiful, clear night and perfect for conversation, though perhaps not the one I want to have just yet. "I wanted to ask you something," I say, feeling nervous. She sits beside me, watching me inquisitively with sparkling blue eyes. "I'm not sure how you would feel about taking a long weekend away with me, maybe leaving Cody with Shannon. Maybe to New York."

She stares at me in surprise. "New York?" she whispers.

I nod. "I have an apartment there. You've said you haven't really seen much of the east coast apart from Savannah, Georgia. We could see the sights, maybe catch a show on Broadway if you wanted. Whatever you want to do. You've had a rough time of things as of late and you deserve some real downtime." I pause. "And really, I haven't taken a vacation myself in... I don't even know how long. It'd be fun."

"Well, when you put it like that..." she murmurs into her wine glass as she thinks. "Yeah, I think I'd like that."

I smile in relief. "Yeah?" I ask. She nods shyly. I lean over and pull her into a deep kiss as several new ideas pop into my head at once. It's a warm enough night. The house is quiet. It wouldn't be the first time I've had sex on the balcony, but those were very different circumstances.

The only thing stopping me is the knowledge that Ana's son is sleeping down the hall and if he wakes up scared, he could come wandering out. That's a first I'd very much like to avoid. I know what a lifetime of therapy looks like and I wouldn't want to be responsible for damning Cody to the same fate.

"Bed?" I breathe against her lips.

In response she tightens the fingers in my hair. Without breaking our kiss, I set aside our wine glasses and stand, pulling her into my arms, making my way to the bedroom.

* * *

Hours later, Ana is fast asleep beside me, but for some reason, I can't get there myself. My mind is whirling with the possibilities New York can bring us, assuming I can actually get the words out. One of my biggest fears is that I've completely read the situation wrong and she doesn't feel the same—where will that leave me?

Feeling restless, I press a kiss to Ana's head and slip out of bed, retrieving a pair of pajama pants before heading out of the room. First I head to the guest room to check on Cody, also sleeping soundly and completely swamped in the big bed. With a smile, I close the door again, heading towards the great room and my usual late night distraction—my piano. With the lid lowered, I begin to play at random, hardly listening to the music.

There is so much uncertainty is this type of relationship that I never experienced in a Dom/sub arrangement. All these emotions I've experienced never would have been an issue before. Bringing somebody to spend the day with my family wouldn't have even occurred to me. And a vacation with a submissive? Never. I would know every moment we were together what would happen, who dictated what.

And it was boring as fuck.

I may be scared out of my wits, but I don't regret a single moment spent with Anastasia Steele.

Speaking of whom, I hear shuffling behind me.

"Oh, so you do actually play," says Ana's sleepy, teasing voice.

My fingers continue across the keys as I smile and she sits down beside me. "What did you think the piano was for?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "I just assumed it was one of those things rich people do—you know, buy a bunch a fancy cars, get a huge penthouse apartment, get a piano..."

I stop playing, laughing, and turn to face her. She's wearing my discarded t-shirt. "One of those things rich people do?" I repeat. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not." I reach out and push a lock of her hair behind her hair. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Only because you weren't there," she answers, resting her head on my shoulder.

"Well, I'm sure if you let me take you back to bed, I could make it up to you," I whisper, trailing my finger along the collar of her shirt. "Shall we find out?"

I feel her grin against my shoulder. "I suppose you could try," she says dismissively with a sigh. I take that as a challenge.

"It's a good thing you don't work tomorrow, Miss Steele," I whisper, my lips against her neck. "Because you're not getting any sleep tonight."

* * *

It's with the utmost reluctance that I watched Ana and Cody leave on Sunday. Since Ana and I are going out of town next weekend, I'm working later than I normally would during the week and Ana is picking up extra shifts at the coffee shop. The sooner I get this bakery off the ground the better. She can make her own hours without having to worry about losing her job for taking time off. I've already spoken to Shannon about it and she's onboard and excited. She's even ensured me she won't mention my involvement unless specifically asked. Mia couldn't be more excited.

But the extra hours we're working means I don't get to see much of her at all and probably won't until lunchtime on Friday when I pick her up for our flight to New York. That in itself has put me in a foul mood, not to mention I've gotten lax at work and some department heads thought they could follow in my lead. They missed important deadlines that set us back weeks. Only at Ros' urging did I not fire them the moment I learned of the fuck up.

I didn't expect my mood to improve when I arrived home, but the sight of Ana sitting on my balcony with a glass of wine is like a kick to the chest and I feel a smile grow on my face. For a moment I wonder if I'm imagining it; the smile Gail gives me, though, tells me I'm not. Shedding my jacket and tie, I quickly make my way out to her, eager to just breathe her air.

"Hey, baby. This is a nice surprise to come home to," I say, smiling like an idiot. But that smile fades the moment I get a glimpse of her face. There's no welcoming, teasing smile on her lips for me today. She doesn't even meet my gaze. Something is wrong.

"Ana?" I say, kneeling beside her. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She takes a breath and a deeper drink of her wine before setting her glass aside. "We need to talk," she whispers, her voice wavering.

Her words set me on edge, though I'm not immediately sure why. I sit beside her the way we were on Saturday night. Somehow I don't think this will play out as well. "Okay," I say nervously. "What is it?"

She shakes her head briefly before speaking. "I took Cody to the mall today because he's growing out of his clothes and needed new one," she begins, speaking quickly as though she's trying to rush through her practiced speech. "As we were leaving, we stopped for a soft pretzel—it's kind of a tradition, a treat. So we got in line, but when we got to the front, I looked down, and he was gone. Wandered off."

"Is he all right?" I ask, alarmed.

She nods. "Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. I was more upset by the whole thing than he was. I mean, he was only out of my sight two, three minutes at most, but when I found him, he wasn't alone." For a moment I wonder if Preston has shown up again, but Sawyer would have contacted me before this had that been the case. Now I see anger in her expression and I can't imagine where this is going. "It was your friend Elena."

It's the shock that hits me first followed fairly quickly by confusion. I can't imagine Ana shopping in the same places where Elena shops, certainly not with Cody and last I checked, they didn't sell soft pretzels. "Elena?" I check. "Elena Lincoln?"

Ana glares at me, not that I particularly blame her. "She had her hands on my son, Christian," she snaps. "Running her fingers through his hair, touching his shoulder..." She shudders. "On the drive home, Cody said she told him that he reminded her of you when you were little."

I close my eyes, my jaw tensing. "For fuck's sake," I hiss. "Ana, I'm sorry. I'll take care of it. It will never happen again."

"No, it won't," she says, determined. "Look, I've told you that I want nothing to do with that woman after what she did to you even though you still say it wasn't abuse—that's your issue to deal with. I didn't want to see her or hear about her, and I sure as fuck didn't want her anywhere near my son! You said you were cutting ties with her, whatever that entails, and I believe you. I don't know if this happened because she's trying to get to you through me and I really don't care at this point. It's several steps too far."

I nod. "No, you're absolutely right," I agree, already planning a very heated conversation with Mrs. Lincoln. "I understand."

She closes her eyes and shakes her head sadly. "No, you don't," she whispers. I look at her, holding my breath. "Christian, if it were just me, I could handle it. I'm a big girl, I fight my own battles. But it's not just me; I have a son to think about. And I have enough bullshit in my life with Preston to deal with and I don't need this, too."

I'm frozen in fear and don't want to ask the next question. "What are you saying?" I breathe.

She finally meets my gaze and I see the devastation in her eyes. She hasn't even answered and already I feel like my entire world is falling apart. This isn't happening... "I'm saying... I need some time to think," she whispers, tears in her eyes.

"Time?" I repeat weakly. "How much?"

Shrugging, she shakes her head. "I don't know," she answers. "But I think it's best we don't see each other while I do."

It's another kick to the chest. But this time I can't catch my breath again. I search for words, any words that can fix this situation, but I can't find them. The last time I had no words, I was four years old and being taken away from my birth mother by the police.

 _No..._

"Ana, don't do this," I beg, my voice breaking. I reach out for her hand, but she pulls away quickly and stands. She's leaving. "I didn't know Elena was planning on doing this, this isn't my fault."

She hesitates briefly. "And I'm not blaming you," she promises emphatically.

 _No, you're just punishing me._

"Christian, please..." she begs. "I need to get home."

Like a lost puppy, I follow her back into the apartment as she gathers her purse and keys before quickly making her way to the elevator. "What about this weekend?" I blurt desperately.

"I can't," she says regretfully. "I'm sorry."

Not for the first time the three words I need to say to her are on the tip of my tongue. But instead, another set of words falls out first. "Don't leave me," I beg.

After pressing the elevator button, she turns back to me and I think she's changing her mind. She closes the distance between us and leans up to press her lips against mine. But before I can deepen it or even hold onto her, she backs away.

"Please," she says, a tear slipping down her cheek. I reach up to wipe it away. "Just give me time."

And I am out of arguments. I can't force her to stay, as badly as I want to try. I need to give her what she wants, what she needs, even if it destroys me. Taking a deep breath, I nod. "Okay." And it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. "You'll call me?"

She nods, backing into the elevator as the doors open. I hold her gaze until she's out of my view. I back up until I hit the wall of the foyer and slide down it, staring at the place where I last saw her.

It's the thing I feared would happen the moment I felt myself getting too close to Ana to begin with: my past has fucked it all up and driven her away. Not exactly how I saw it happening; I assumed the fuck up would have been mine.

I should have told her that I love her. Would that have made it better or worse? I have no clue. Now I might never get the chance.

Hours could have passed from when I sat down, I have no concept. I only look up when Taylor enters the foyer, probably headed for my office to talk to me. He stops suddenly when he sees me.

"Mr. Grey," he says, only momentarily surprised.

"What is it, Taylor?" I ask lifelessly, the question automatic.

He hesitates a moment before speaking. "The arrangements for this weekend are—"

"Cancel them," I say harshly.

"Sir?" he asks as though he doesn't understand.

I look up at him and he takes a step back. "You heard me," I say coldly. "Send Ryan to relieve Sawyer for a few hours; I need to speak with him. When he returns, I want two CPOs at Ana's apartment until further notice. She and Cody go nowhere without them. Ana was followed today. She and Cody were accosted. They're both fine, but I want to know how the fuck that happened."

"I'll look into it, sir," Taylor assures me. He hesitates again. "Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Grey?"

I shake my head and look back at the elevator, hoping the doors will open again and Ana will come back.


	15. Chapter 15

Anger is something I'm accustomed to and have been all my life. I've experienced every variety of the emotion on the spectrum at one point or another—anger caused by fear; irrational anger over nothing; red hot rage; blind fury. The one type of anger that is new to me is the one I know, if experienced as a teenager, could have led me down a darker road than the one I was already down. I've never wanted to actually harm another person intentionally, not a specific person, anyway. The fights I landed myself in when I was younger were more of a way to let off steam and frustration. Later, my submissives served that same purpose.

No, this new anger has only presented itself once before, just a few months ago after learning about Anastasia's ex and the shit he put her through. I wanted to find that piece of shit and tear him apart. But even that doesn't quite match what I feel right now as I approach Esclava. Tempted as I was to have this confrontation sooner, I was too lost in realizing Ana was gone and probably wouldn't be back to have any of the impact I'm determined to have.

Greta at the front desk looks up to greet me, quickly losing her welcoming smile when she sees the look on my face. I ignore her, marching straight towards the back and the closed office door. Without knocking,I throw open the door. Elena is on the phone and looks up in irritation at the interruption, which changes to surprise when she sees me enter the office and close the door behind me a little harder than I need to. She holds up one perfectly manicured finger to inform me she needs a moment to finish her call. I don't give a fuck who she's talking to; I'm tempted to take the phone from her hand and throw it at a wall.

Instead I bunch my hands tight to the point my fingernails are digging painfully into the palms of my hands. The pain is welcome and appropriate given who I'm dealing with, and I'm wondering if it's possible to set somebody on fire simply by glaring at them.

"Christian, this is a surprise," Elena says, smiling.

"Is it?" I ask coldly. Her smile falters slightly at my tone. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

Elena examines her fingernails. "You'll have to be more specific than that, dear. I've gotten that question a number of times over the years," she says dismissively.

I close my eyes briefly, trying to keep the worst of my temper under control. Not even I know what will happen if I lose that control right now. "Before yesterday, did you even know where that fucking mall was located? As long as I've known you, you have never shopped anywhere without designer clothing boutiques or that had a Cinnabon."

She laughs a little. "What in the world is a Cinnabon?" she asks, my glare intensifying. She sighs, resting her hands on her desk. "So I was at the mall yesterday. Did Anastasia come running to you?"

"As a matter of fact," I confirm. "I told you to stay the fuck away from her and her son, yet here you are, somehow showing up where they happen to be."

"The boy was wandering around completely lost," Elena says defensively. "I was only helping out. Why are you so angry about this?" Her eyes narrow on me as she studies me carefully. She is one of the few people who can do this and know exactly what is on my mind. Her eyes widen in realization. "Oh, she left you, didn't she?"

I swallow hard, still unable to properly process what has happened. I'm not sure I want to.

Elena tsks. "Well, I did warn you about that girl, didn't I?" she asks, shaking her head. "You're welcome."

My eyes widen at her words. "For what?" I ask incredulously.

"For helping you see the truth about her," she clarifies. "You think she cares about you, but at the slightest bit of provocation, where is she, hmm? You deserve better, Christian. I've told you that enough."

I shake my head slowly. "Bullshit," I say quietly. _There is no one better than Anastasia Steele._ "You know nothing about her and you know nothing about me. How in the fuck did you even know where to find her? Have you been following her?" I watch as Elena twists one of her rings, a nervous habit. "No... No, because she could have recognized you and I definitely would have, and so would have my security team." I exhale sharply as I reach my conclusion. "You've been _having_ her followed, haven't you? For fuck's sake, Elena! Who was it? Isaac?"

I make a mental note to berate my security team again at my earliest convenience. It's one thing for Ana to be followed, but something else entirely for her to be followed while security is already following her. But right now, it's Elena who I need to deal with and for the first time in my life, having her in front of me makes me physically ill.

"You know, after all this time," I begin, forcing myself to be calm, "I actually believed you and I were friends. I've spent nearly half of my life confiding in you, defending you, protecting you. Letting you do things to me I never imagined before our affair began. I thought you cared about my happiness and my well-being. Perhaps you didn't always agree with my decisions or my methods, but you still supported me. I'd convinced myself that you saved me when I was younger, and yes, you helped me get my business off the ground. But it's taken me all this time to realize that you didn't save me, not for my sake, anyway. It was always about you. And the second I met another woman, one who changed my outlook on life, who loves me, who makes me happy, you make it all about you again. Well, fuck you, Elena," I snap. "I'm done. I'm done playing your games and doing everything you want me to do. I was going to gift you the salons out of nostalgia, but I don't think I want to do that anymore.

"Elena, you have thirty days to buy the Esclava salon chain, not a day more. If on the thirty-first day you haven't bought them, I'll burn every last one of them to the fucking ground. Make your decision and contact my attorney. Do not call me, do not text me, do not email me, do not visit my home or my office. Don't send a fucking courier with a message for me. Stay the fuck away from me and my family—that includes Ana and Cody. Don't forget, Elena, I have enough dirt on you that I can destroy you with a single phone call."

She's silent for a moment, possibly doubting my sincerity. Let her doubt. "Now, Christian, be reasonable," she says soothingly, like she's trying to comfort a wild animal. It incenses me.

I slam my hands on her desk and lean forward until I'm inches from Elena's face. To her credit, though she looks alarmed and perhaps worried for her safety, but doesn't move an inch as I hiss, "Fuck reasonable. And fuck you."

I don't wait for her response and storm out of the salon. Rather than drive in my current condition, I take a walk. As I calm down, my body begins to react to what just happened. I've never spoken to Elena in that manner, never threatened her. If I'd spoken to her that way as her submissive, there would undoubtedly be hell to pay and punishments to suffer. Suddenly, I have the insane urge to go back and apologize to her; that fades away when I recall why I went there in the first place. She deserved everything I said and more, and now I know what I need to do in order to keep her out of my life for good. Perhaps if I do this, Ana might consider coming back...

* * *

Right now, I should be in New York with Ana showing her around the city, enjoying ourselves without interference from work or our combined baggage that always seems to pop up. I should be arranging a candlelight dinner for this evening with every romantic cliché I can think of where I would tell her that I love her.

Instead, I'm planning something very different which will occur probably on Wednesday if all concerned parties can participate. Rather than it being something to bring me closer with another person, I fear it will destroy my relationship with two others. I've second guessed myself half a dozen times, but I can't think of another way to ensure Elena can't worm her way back into my life and fuck everything up again. More than that, I need Ana to see that Elena is gone for good. She thinks I don't see Elena for what she is and what she put me through. Elena Lincoln is a manipulator and will do anything to get what she wants. I've never considered myself a victim of abuse for the simple reason that admitting it is also admitting I was too weak to defend myself and I learned early that I never wanted to feel like that again after my birth mother died.

Since Ana came into my life, any time I think back to what Elena and I did, I struggle more and more to find some enjoyment in it. I was fifteen when we started up and I can't imagine there are many fifteen-year-old boys who would say no if a hot older woman came onto them and wanted to start an affair. Would the reactions of the people involved peripherally be as outraged and disgusted if our relationship didn't involve BDSM?

I shake my head. It doesn't matter. What matters is getting Elena out of my life not only for the sake of getting Ana back, but for my sake. I'm fucking done with her bullshit, done being controlled, done letting her rule and ruin my life.

The two phone calls I make will change everything.

In the meantime, I have a bakery to set up. The building chosen as the location has been purchased. I lucked out with this place; the previous owners were in the middle of a full renovation, tearing the place apart from the inside out and rebuilding. Unfortunately their budget began to run out soon after the building was cleared out and they were unable to refinance the project. So it's a blank slate, allowing Shannon, Mia, and hopefully, Ana to decide how everything is to be built, arranged, and decorated. To my surprise, Shannon already has rough blueprints of how she wants the layout setup. Naturally, Elliot's company is doing the construction work and knowing his team, it'll be done in a week or so, ready to start purchasing equipment and whatever else they need.

Shannon is waiting to tell Ana about the bakery at least until the construction is complete and the place has been cleaned up. I want to tell her myself, but Ana has made it clear she doesn't want any communication between us, and that is slowly killing me.

Anytime I stop working or doing whatever I can to serve as a distraction, the pain in my chest that began the moment she stepped into the elevator returns. I'm not sleeping at night, I'm barely eating, and I'm running on automatic at work, doing what I've always done, because it's all I can do for now. Perhaps after my appointment on Wednesday I could send her a text message to let her know what I've decided to do and that will at least open a line of communication between us. I've thought of sending her text messages a dozen times a day.

 _How are you?_

 _I miss you._

 _I love you._

 _I'm sorry for everything. I'll make it right._

 _Please come back._

But I'm doing my best to respect her wishes, difficult as it is. That hasn't stopped me from walking the couple of block from Grey House to the coffee shop where she works in the hopes of getting a glimpse of her. I don't stay long lest she spot me or someone thinks I'm some creepy stalker and calls the police. When I have seen her, I can see a strain in her face, though she hides it behind a smile and peppiness necessary in customer service work.

I can't help wondering if I'm the reason for that strain or if something else has happened. Sawyer and Ryan have been busting their asses since the mall incident. During the day when Ana is working, Sawyer is in the coffee shop keeping an eye on every customer that comes in the door. He sees me every time I pass the window and I'm starting to see a look of pity on his face. I do my best to ignore it. Ryan spends the day outside Cody's daycare center where every worker has been vetted thoroughly before Cody started there. I expected an angry call from Ana about interfering in her life when she asked me to stay away, but there has been nothing. I suspect given the current situation with her ex, she's in favor of checking into anyone with access to her son.

Tonight, I'll have a distraction from Ana, though I wish I didn't have to go through with it. There are so many different reactions to what I have to share and none of them end with tearful hugs and acceptance.

At seven p.m. on Wednesday I sit in John Flynn's office fidgeting. I can't remember the last time I fidgeted. I'm nervous again, more nervous than I've been with anything aside from Anastasia. John notices.

"Christian, are you certain you're ready for this?" he asks quietly.

I look at him sharply. "Are you trying to talk me out of it?" I ask him, almost hopefully.

He gives me a half-smile. "No," he says firmly. "I think this is a long time coming. Yes, it will be difficult and you may not like the results, but in the end, you'll see this was the best thing you could do."

I shake my head. "And if they cut me off like Anastasia has? Where does that leave me?" I ask.

John sighs, though before he can speak, the intercom in his office buzzes. "Dr. Flynn, Dr. and Mr. Grey have arrived," his receptionist's disembodied voice announces. I close my eyes. This is really happening. I glance at the windows with the ridiculous thought that I can jump out of one to escape.

"Send them in, thank you, Janet." John stands, gesturing that I should as well. I do so shakily. A moment later, my parents enter the room and John greets them. I can see the bewilderment in their eyes; they haven't sat in on one of my therapy sessions since I was nine.

"It's good to see you both again," John says, gesturing towards the couch beside the chair I'm occupying. "Please, have a seat." He crosses the room to a mini fridge near his desk and retrieves four bottles of water, passing three out to us before sitting. Shakily, I open my bottle and nearly drain the bottle before realizing everyone is staring at me. Replacing the cap on the bottle, I set it aside.

"So, this was rather unexpected," Grace says, looking between John and me. "It's been an age since we came to one of Christian's therapy sessions." She looks at me with a mix of concern and curiosity. I can't blame her; normally, I keep them as far from my personal life as I can. Carrick looks at me in suspicion, though there is concern there also.

John leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Christian requested this session, because he's made some incredible progress in his therapy program. There have been a handful of things that repeatedly come up in our sessions, but one in particular that he wants to discuss with the two of you. He's asked me to mediate the session and to be support and encouragement. What he has to discuss with you will be difficult to hear. I would ask that, difficult as it will be, you allow Christian to get through what he needs to say before commenting. At any time, if anyone needs to take a break, just say the word. I'm hear for all of you, not just Christian. Any questions?"

My parents clearly have questions, but seem to be too off-kilter to ask. They simply shake their heads before turning towards me again.

I clear my throat, wondering if I can really do this. But I want Elena out of my life completely and that has to happen before I try to get Ana back, so here we go. "I haven't been entirely honest with you," I say quietly, willing myself to look at my parents rather than my shoes, but I can't do it. I've barely said anything and already I feel like I'm a kid again being scrutinized and chastised by my parents for something I've done. "I don't really know where to begin..." I look to John for inspiration.

"Start at the beginning," he urges softly.

Sighing, I nod. "I was a terrible teenager," I say, finally looking at my parents. "The fighting, the drinking, fighting with the two of you... And it was only getting worse. I knew it was only a matter of time before I was arrested for beating the shit out of somebody or for doing something worse.

"After my last expulsion, I knew the two of you were at your wit's end and I don't blame you for that. You sent me to Mrs. Lincoln's to work because you were tired of me thinking I was on vacation every time I was suspended or expelled. And I hated it. I was moving all that rubble in the heat, but on the upside, it was a distraction from everything else, like kickboxing. I could let my mind wander while I worked.

"Well, one day, Mrs. Lincoln came out with a glass of lemonade for me to drink because it was so hot that summer. Being me, I couldn't just say thank you and move on; I made some some sort of smart ass remark and she..."

Can I do this? I look at John and he nods his encouragement. "Go on, it's okay," he whispers.

I want to scream at him that it's never been less okay in my entire life. Instead, I take a drink from my water bottle and force myself to look at my parents. They're nervous. Grace is gripping Carrick's hand for dear life.

"Mrs. Lincoln kissed me," I tell them. John and I discussed this before; for now it's enough that they know of the affair. I don't want them knowing the gritty details. "Then she turned around and went back inside. I finished for the day and went home. I didn't know how to react. I was fifteen and full of hormones. I wanted to see her again."

Grace holds a hand up. "When you say she kissed you, I assume it wasn't on the cheek," she says reluctantly.

"No, it wasn't," I confirm. Her eyes close tightly and she breathes in sharply through her nose. When her eyes open, she's composed and nods for me to go on. "I went back the next day and she kissed me again. That led to... other activities." I avert my gaze from my parents'.

"How long?" Carrick asks in a low voice that signals he's barely holding onto his temper.

I look at them apologetically. "Six years," I whisper.

"Oh, my God," Grace says, falling back into the couch as though she was shoved. "You had an affair with a married woman, my best friend, for six years?" she asks, glaring at me.

I gulp, managing to nod.

"That fucking bitch," Grace hisses to no one in particular. "I'll kill her."

My eyes widen. I've never heard her curse or threaten anybody. I glance at Carrick. His jaw is tense as he stares at the bottle of water on the table in front of him. I'm waiting for his reaction, but it doesn't come.

"You were a _child_ ," Grace says, tears filling her eyes. "And she took advantage of you..." She gasps. "She knew everything about you, all your issues, everything. I gave her everything she needed to get to you."

 _Shit._ "Mom, no, it's not your fault," I say quickly. I try to think of something to fix this. "For a long time, I thought she was helping me. She got me back on track with school, kept me focused, stopped my drinking... I thought that without her I'd have ended up dead or in prison."

"How can you say that?" Carrick snaps. "You don't know that. Yes, you were troubled, but you could have gotten yourself back on track without the _assistance_ of a pedophile."

I swallow hard. "Maybe, I don't know," I say. "But it's taken me all this time to realize she wasn't a force for good like I thought. I never had friends, even in college. I never had a girlfriend, until Anastasia." I hope they can't hear my voice break when I say her name. "And I was okay with that. I didn't know any other way to control my own life."

"You weren't controlling it," Grace says, disgusted. " _She_ was. You should have come to us, Christian. You should have let us help you."

I shake my head. "That's just it. You couldn't have helped me at that point. I was at an all time low when this all started. I honestly don't know what I would have done without it. And I know you don't want to hear it; I don't want to say it to you."

"So why are you?" Carrick asks bitingly.

"Because as I said, I've finally realized that what we did was wrong and never should have begun let alone lasted as long as it did. I want her out of my life. I've already begun proceedings to get rid of the salons if she doesn't purchase them within thirty days, which I don't believe she can. So I'll shut them down.

"But that isn't enough. I would still see her at family functions and benefit dinners unless I made you aware of what has happened," I look at Grace. "I know she's your friend—"

She scoffs. "Not anymore," she mutters bitterly.

"And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied to you all the times I was going out and told you I was meeting friends. I'm sorry I didn't tell you the moment it began."

"I always knew there was something," Carrick says, shaking his head. "The change in you was so sudden. I thought you were just finally growing up out of that stage." He looks away. "Jesus, we were so blind."

"I'm sorry," I say weakly. I can't stand the way Grace is fighting back tears, the way Carrick looks like he wants to tear something apart, the way neither of them can look at me. "Please don't think this is your fault. I made the decision."

Carrick scoffs. "You were too young to make that fucking decision, Christian," he says angrily. "I blame her for taking advantage of a boy who was troubled, who'd only begun speaking nine years prior. Given your history..." He shakes his head, trailing off.

Grace suddenly sits up and looks at me with wide, fearful eyes. "I know what she was into," she whispers. "I know her tastes were on the... exotic side. Did she..? Did you...?"

 _Fuck_. I glance at John who is watching me, waiting for me to decide how to answer. But this is bad enough; they shouldn't know everything. "No," I say quickly. "It was just sex." Carrick narrows his eyes at me while Grace searches my face for any hint of a lie. Hopefully all they see is the nervousness and embarrassment and shame I feel having this conversation with them.

Grace relaxes, nodding. She pats Carrick on the knee. "I'd like to go home now," she says quietly, not looking at me. She stands, Carrick follows. "John, it was good to see you again, though perhaps not under these circumstances."

"Of course," John says gently. "Thank you for coming, both of you."

Without another word or look at me, my parents leave. I deflate in my chair as John sits back down. "Christian?" he says, tilting his head to the side. "We should talk about this."

I shake my head. "Nothing to talk about," I say lifelessly. "They're done with me."

I manage to stand up, ignoring John's calls to come back, and leave his office. Once I'm home, the only thing I can think to do is go to the liquor cabinet and pour myself a generous class of bourbon, and spend the rest of the night refilling the glass.

* * *

The next several days are rough. I don't have it in me to do much of anything. I can't face work right now, not in this condition, and Ros is already concerned, but I manage to convince her I've got a bad cold, possibly the flu, and she pretends to believe me. At least I can trust her to take care of GEH while I get my shit together.

Meanwhile, I'm avoiding John's phone calls, though if I keep that up, he'll show up here for a wellness check. I need a distraction, something that will help me close this chapter of my life so I can move on, hopefully with Anastasia. It's a project I've been putting off since she left, perhaps before. I know she'll never enter the room as it is, and it's a surprise that I am fine with that. More than fine. I don't care. I want her and if she comes back to me, we'll never use anything in that room. Well, there may be a few things she doesn't mind. I smirk, recalling her introduction to a few of the more harmless toys from my playroom. It was an experience we both enjoyed immensely.

Before I know it, I'm standing in the doorway of the playroom, looking around at everything I've collected over the years. All the furniture is custom to my exact specifications. I suppose some of it is harmless enough to keep—the couch, the trunk where I keep the toys. The rest can go. I thought I'd feel more bitter and upset getting rid of these things, but I feel nothing. Perhaps that is a side effect of knowing Ana has left me and my parents walked out on me, but I just don't care. I want it gone despite all the good memories I have in the room.

But those memories only exist because of what Elena introduced me to. And everything connected to Elena has to go.

I spend the day putting things in trash bags, though I do keep a few items in the hopes Ana and I can use them in the future. Once the canes, floggers, and crops are in one bag while the harsher toys, usually used for punishments are in another, I begin dismantling the room. It would be easier to hire somebody who has signed a NDA, but this is therapeutic and it's better than drinking all day and night.

Gail finds me in the late evening as I'm removing the Saint Andrew's cross from the wall. "Mr. Grey? Would you like dinner tonight?" she asks tentatively. I've been slightly volatile in the last few days and short-tempered with my staff.

I take a moment to assess myself and realize that for the first time in days, I'm actually hungry. "Yes, please, Gail," I say, turning to her with a small smile.

Gail's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Right away, Mr. Grey," she says happily. "Oh, your brother has been calling your phone for a while now. Taylor picked up one of the calls; it wasn't urgent."

Elliot probably wants to come over, drink my beer, play my video games, and question me about Ana. "I'll call him back," I assure Gail.

She looks around the room briefly, a weird little smile on her face before she leaves. "I'll let you know when dinner is finished."

"Thank you," I say as she leaves. Sighing, I look around the room with its bare walls. I thought I'd feel distressed at the reality of dismantling my playroom, but I don't. I still feel nothing; I wonder what Flynn would have to say about that.

Turning away, I head downstairs, passing Gail in the kitchen on my way to my study. I have several missed calls, mostly from my brother. With a sigh, I call him back.

"About fucking time," he says in lieu of a proper greeting. "I've been calling all day."

I roll my eyes. "What can I do for you, Elliot?" I ask evenly, not particularly in the mood for his shit right now.

"I thought you'd want to know the construction on the bakery finished quicker than I anticipated. It's just as the you and the girls wanted it. My guys are moving in the appliances to the kitchen and the girls are coming in later to arrange the furniture and stuff," he tells me.

"Oh," I say, surprised. I didn't expect them to finish construction for at least another week. "Um, that's great. Thank you, Elliot."

"Yeah, no problem. So are you going to come check it out? I mean, this was like your personal project, right?" he asks.

I sigh. "I wouldn't say it was my project," I reply, even though I'm the one who got this whole thing going. And if I'm being honest with myself, I did it all for Ana. I wonder how she will react when she sees it... Should I go check it out? It would give me the opportunity to see her close up for the first time in more than a week. But she's asked for no contact from me. Would this count? I could stop by, just to check up on my investment, and if Ana doesn't want me there, it'll be a quick visit and I'll leave.

"Christian, you there?" Elliot asks.

"Yeah, I'm here. I'll come by in a little while. I've got a couple things to take care of," I say. In reality, my only real task is getting the shit out of my playroom. I'll have to get Taylor to take it to the dump or something; I can't have anyone linking me to those items.

After finishing with Elliot, Gail informs me dinner is ready. To my surprise, food doesn't taste like dirt anymore. Perhaps it's the thought that I may see Anastasia that's improving my appetite. I eat quickly, realizing how hungry I am for the first time in days. Gail happily takes my plate once I've finished and I excuse myself, heading for my bedroom. Once I've texted instructions to Taylor about how to handle the mess in the playroom, I take a quick shower and change clothes, checking myself in the mirror before heading for my jacket, wallet, and keys.

The bakery is located a few blocks from Grey House and despite it being a Saturday, traffic is surprisingly light. I park in the lot on the side of the building and try to keep it cool to disguise my eagerness to see Ana as I head to the front door. Through the windows, I can see Elliot's team has done an amazing job as always. Shannon and Mia are arranging tables and chairs when I find them. I tap on the door to get their attention.

Mia bounces towards the door, a huge smile on her face as she unlocks it for me. "Christian, this is amazing! Thank you!" she gushes, hugging me tightly.

I chuckle, hugging her back. "Don't say I never gave you anything," I tease, reaching behind me to lock the door again. I look around, but don't see Anastasia. Perhaps she's in the back..."Place looks great."

"It really does," Shannon says, smiling. "I've worked in several bakeries, but never any this nice."

"Well, well, well," Elliot says loudly, coming from what I assume is the kitchen. "Look who's decided to mingle with the commoners."

I roll my eyes. "Hello to you, too, Elliot," I say dully.

He smirks as he joins us. "Want the tour while the girls continue with their decoration that is too important to allow anyone else to help?" he asks, probably referring to a discussion from earlier that I doubt I want anything to do with.

As if in confirmation of my assumption, both Shannon and Mia punch him in the shoulder simultaneously. He whines and rubs his shoulder while I laugh. The sound is foreign to my ears.

"Sure, give me the tour," I say, still snickering. "I wouldn't want to see you get hurt anymore."

Elliot narrows his eyes at me, but leads me towards the front of the bakery gesturing at the front counter where the cash registers are. "As requested, everything is top of the range. iPad POS system with top notch security—your tech guy Barney set it all up earlier. The display cases are all temperature controlled with a built-in thermostat. Everything in the kitchen is silver and shiny—I won't even get into the details of what the hell the stats are."

I almost eagerly enter the kitchen, hoping Ana is in here, but she isn't. "Ana isn't here?" I ask, trying to hide my disappointment.

Elliot gives me a sidelong glance. "Um, no," he says carefully. "She's home with Cody. I guess it was too last minute to get a sitter."

Nodding, I suddenly lose interest in being here. And I know his excuse about Ana is bullshit. I could see it if this was still a construction site, but everything is cleaned up. She would have no problem bringing Cody here. Unless, of course, she's avoiding me...

"But speaking of Ana..." Elliot begins. My jaw clenches. I should have known this was coming. "Shannon has been trying to get her to tell her what happened, but Ana's being tight-lipped. I'm supposed to ask you what happened." Elliot looks at me warily. It's appropriate, since he knows how I react when he questions me about my personal life. Teasing is one thing; this is different.

I debate whether to tell him what happened, or at least the abbreviated version of events. It might be good to tell someone... Or it might make things worse. "Ana and I are..." I search for the words I need. "We're taking a break."

Elliot looks at me curiously. "Why, though? I mean, it looked like you guys were doing so great. I'd never seen you so happy. And the way you were with Cody..."

"Yeah, well, there were a few issues to work out, some things that we clashed on and Ana decided she needs space," I admit sulkily.

"Hmm," Elliot says, leaning against a long stainless steel counter, studying me closely. I'm suddenly suspicious. "So it has nothing to do with Elena Lincoln?"

I freeze and all the blood drains from me. _What the fuck?_ Despite Elliot seeing my reaction, I reply automatically. "What? Of course not."

Elliot raises an eyebrow. "You sure? 'Cause I was at Mom and Dad's the other night and I heard them angry-whispering about you and Mrs. Lincoln. They're pretty pissed about something and since you were the only family member not present for dinner that night, I'm thinking whatever they're pissed about is really bad." Thankfully he keeps his voice down.

 _Goddammit._ This is not a conversation I ever intended to have with either of my siblings. "Yeah, it's bad," I say shortly. "But I'm not going to discuss it here."

Elliot sighs. "I'm not an idiot, Christian," he says quietly. "I know something went on with you two. Were you fucking her?"

I close my eyes tightly. When I open them, I glance at the kitchen doors to ensure the girls are still far enough away that they can't hear us as I decide to give Elliot the brief summary. "Yes. We had an affair for six years that ended when I was twenty-one."

My brother is speechless for the first time ever. Under different circumstances I would enjoy this more. "Fuck," he finally says, wide-eyed. "So what, Ana knew and had a problem with it, and took off?"

"It was a little more complicated than that. Yes, she knew. When she found out, she told me she wanted nothing to do with Elena and was quite firm about keeping her away from Cody, what with the whole affair with me when I was fifteen, and all. Well, Elena was under the delusion that Anastasia was completely wrong for me and was only out for my money and somebody to help raise her son. She decided to stalk Ana at a shopping mall. Cody wandered off briefly and when Ana found him, he was with Elena."

Elliot stares at me. "Oh," he says, clearly processing. "That is... seriously fucked up. All of it. And, I'm sorry, but I'm a little bit on Ana's side with this."

Of course he is. "Yeah, I think I am, too," I admit quietly. "Doesn't change anything, though."

"So what are you going to do?" he asks.

"About what?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Elena? Ana?"

"I've cut ties with Elena. I confronted her about Ana a couple days after Ana left and told her in no uncertain terms that our personal relationship, our friendship, and our business partnership is over, and not to contact me in any way. I'm in the process of selling the salons if she doesn't buy them first. And in order to ensure Elena and I don't see each other in a social environment, I told Mom and Dad about everything." I still can't believe I did that. Fourteen years of keeping that secret and it's no longer a secret.

Elliot looks sympathetic and I can't handle it, so I avert my gaze and continue answering his question.

"As for Ana..." I shrug, unable to come up with anything. It's only been a week and a half since Ana left and I'm lost. What I really want is to go to her, beg her forgiveness for not seeing what was right under my nose all this time regarding Elena, and hope like hell I can get her back. "She wants space and time to think, so for now, I'm giving her that."

Elliot nods. "Well, I hope it works out," he says sincerely.

"Yeah, me, too," I reply.

"So are we done with all this deep conversation bullshit?" he asks hopefully. "Because I gotta know: what was it like banging a woman twice your age when you were a teenager? I mean, I always thought Elena was kind of hot and I'll admit I thought about it once or twice..."

I hold up my hand. "We are not talking about this," I say firmly, heading back out to the front of the bakery.

Mia bounces up to me. "So when can we open?" she asks eagerly.

"Well, there are still a few permits to obtain and those take time. I'll try to get them fast tracked, but the red tape could hold them for four weeks or so," I answer. "In the meantime, you'll have time to hire staff if you want and perfect recipes. Or decide you don't like the tile or color of paint, or whatever, and change it. The place is all yours, so are your choices."

The excitement and happiness in the room suddenly becomes too much. If Ana were here, it might be different; even if she still hasn't made up her mind about me, I love seeing her happy and excited. I could watch her like that for days. But as it is, Ana isn't here, because she is actively avoiding me, and I should leave before my mood darkens any further than it did during my conversation with Elliot.

Of course Mia tries to argue when I announce I'm leaving. Shannon looks at me with such understanding and sympathy that I have to swallow hard to get the lump out of my throat. I finally manage to make my escape and get out to my car, miserable because I know I'm going home to my cold, empty, lonely apartment and I don't know if that will ever change.


	16. Chapter 16

In the last two weeks since telling my parents about Elena and me, I've hardly spoken to my family. They've tried multiple times, but I've kept myself so busy with work to avoid going home that I've refused most of their calls. I had a moment of weakness the other day and answered Elliot's call. He apologized for being a dick when I told him about Elena at the bakery and I told him an apology wasn't necessary. He then informed me that he had a rather heated discussion with our parents regarding the way they left the therapy session.

" _Elliot, you didn't have to do that," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose._

" _Someone needed to call them out on their bullshit and I didn't see you doing it," he replies plainly. "Besides, they lectured us enough growing up, I figured it was my turn."_

 _I chuckle tiredly. "I'm sure they loved that," I say wryly._

" _Well, anyway, I know they're both away this week for conferences and conventions, but they assured me you are their top priority once they come home. They said it wasn't a conversation they wanted rushed or over the phone," Elliot says gently._

It's still a conversation I'm not looking forward to, but I appreciate Elliot's concern, even when he makes light of things normal families would balk at. But that's Elliot. In order to avoid the seriousness of a situation, he turns it into a joke. I've gotten used to it.

The only part of the conversation that really drew me in was when Elliot mentioned that Ana has been at the bakery with Shannon and Mia. She was quite impressed when she first saw it and couldn't wait to get started. They are opening in two weeks and are working on recipes and versing themselves on running a business. To everyone's surprise, Mia seems to be quite proficient in that regard; how she got that way is anyone's guess, but I'm proud as hell. The original plan was that I would help them out for the first few months as training wheels; I know from experience that unless you know what you're doing going, running a business from scratch can be difficult. Unfortunately for them, it's not only about selling baked goods and it's easy to get in over your head. But as things are, Elliot is overseeing that aspect in my stead.

It's torture knowing where Anastasia is and not being close to her. That is why I'm burying myself in work. On one level, it's satisfying: I'm getting things done that I've let slide over the months and it's improved Ros' mood and attitude towards me, though she is questioning my voracity after weeks of disinterest. She's concerned, I think, particularly after how indiscreet I was the night I had dinner with her and her family. During those several bottles of wine, I told them about Ana which explained quite a bit to Ros about my behavior recently. I think she's worked out that things between Anastasia and I aren't quite working out.

At this point, as much as I hate it, I have to start admitting to myself that Ana and I may be over, even though she implied it was a temporary situation. Temporary passed two weeks ago, surely.

I sigh, trying to recall Flynn's advice about avoiding the negative. But right now, I'm failing to find any positive in my situation. I had a taste of happiness, real happiness, where I imagined such a different life for myself than the one I was living. Scary as it was, I wanted it—all of it. And I still do. I just have to find a way to show Ana that I want it.

My phone rings and one glance tells me it's Elliot. Sighing, I answer it. "I'm busy, Ell—"

"Cody is in the hospital," he says over me.

I nearly drop the phone. "What? Why, what happened?" I ask hastily.

"I don't know. Shannon and I are in Tacoma for a concert and Ana called. She said Cody collapsed and was unresponsive. She called for an ambulance and now they're at the hospital," Elliot says quickly.

I press my fingers to my forehead. "Fuck," I say softly. A moment later, I'm on my feet and grabbing my jacket, heading to the door. "I'm on my way now. Does Mom know?"

"I have no idea, man. I gave you all the information Ana gave Shannon," he responds apologetically. "When you can, text so Shannon knows what's going on. We're on our way back."

Since I sent Taylor home hours ago, I'm driving myself and it's the longest drive I've had in a long time. On the one hand, I'm going to see Ana, assuming she wants me there. But on the other, something is wrong with Cody, and if it's serious enough for Ana to call for an ambulance... I don't want to think about the implications.

Impatient as I am to find Ana, I stop at the information desk to find out where to go rather than tearing apart the hospital looking for her. Unfortunately I have managed to find the least helpful hospital employee in the state of Washington.

"I am trying to find Anastasia Steele," I repeat for the tenth time through gritted teeth. "Her son Cody was admitted a short time ago."

"Are you the boy's father?" the young woman asks, raising an eyebrow while she chews gum like a cow eating grass.

I take a deep breath, reminding myself she's doing her job however frustrating her pace might be. Hell, even if she had given me the information the moment I asked for it, I would have said it took too long. "No, I am not his father," I say, forcing myself to be calm. "I am a friend of his mother's and she is who I'm looking for."

The girl crosses her arms and rolls her eyes, and I feel my temper begin to skyrocket. "Well, I can't give you patient information if you're not family, sir."

"I'm not asking for patient information," I snap. "I am looking for the boy's mother."

"She has a cell phone, right? You could just call her and find out where she is. For all I know she doesn't want you to find her."

"For fuck's sake!" I shout.

"Christian!"

I spin around and find my mother standing nearby. Glaring at the girl behind the counter one last time for good measure, I close the distance between my mother and me. "Cody was admitted," I inform my mother quietly. "I don't know why. Elliot called and told me. I'm just trying to find Ana."

Grace nods. "We'll find her together," she says, guiding me away from the front desk. "You could have called me, you know, instead of shouting at the receptionist."

I scoff. "Perhaps if the receptionist was actually helpful, I wouldn't have," I reply as we step onto the elevator. Before the doors shut, I find the receptionist watching me with a blank expression still chewing her gum. For now the distance between my parents and me doesn't matter and I'm not in the mood to acknowledge it. "Do you know what happened with Cody? Why is he here?"

"I don't know yet, I just got here myself. The hospital calls whenever one of my patients is admitted," she explains. "He had a check-up before I left for a medical convention and he was fine aside from a cold, but what Ana described to the doctors was much more than that."

I frown. "What did Ana say?" I ask quickly.

My mother gives me an apologetic glance. "That's for Ana to tell you, sweetheart, I can't go into detail about my patients, even with you."

"Right," I mutter heavily. Not for the first time since talking to Elliot do I wonder whether I should be here at all. Ana made her feelings pretty clear the last time we saw each other and I've tried to abide by her wishes, but the thought of her being here alone while Cody is sick is painful. And I don't mind admitting that my concern extends to Cody as well; I'm still a little surprised how much I have come to care for him in such a short time.

"What I will say and I'm sure you know this already, is that Cody is one strong little boy," my mother goes on. "He's beaten the odds more than once in his short life and I really believe whatever this is, he'll beat it, too."

"I hope so," I say softly, surprised that I actually said it out loud.

Just before the elevator doors open, I catch my mother looking at me with an expression I'm unfamiliar with and have trouble identifying. It's not quite pity, but there is a knowing glint in her eyes that I can't look at for more than a few moments.

Once off the elevator, Grace leads me down a short corner to yet another information desk, though I expect this one will be far less frustrating than the last given how the young nurse in scrubs covered in cartoon dogs smiles at my mother.

"Dr. Grace!" she exclaims, glancing at me briefly then doing a double take. Inwardly I roll my eyes as she blushes and reluctantly drags her gaze back to my mother. "I didn't know you were on tonight."

"Hi, Shelley," Grace says with a smile. "I'm not on tonight, but apparently one of my patients was just brought in so I came to check on him."

Shelley looks sympathetic. "Oh... I'm sorry to hear that. And which patient might this be?"

"Cody Steele," Grace answers.

Shelley types something into the computer, then nods. "Cody Steele, room 409, but he's getting an EKG work up."

Grace sighs and I glance at her. She closes her eyes for a brief second and shakes her head so minutely I don't think anyone but I would catch it. "And his mother, Anastasia?" she asks briskly. "Any idea where she's settled?"

"Waiting room B," Shelley answers. "Probably pacing a hole in the floor since there aren't any updates yet."

"She's not getting updates?" I ask sharply. "Why the hell not?"

Shelley looks at me in surprise. "Um..." she murmurs, her eyes darting between me and my mother.

"Christian, she will get updates when there is something to update her with," Grace says quietly. "Right now the priority is figuring out what is wrong with Cody. We'll have to narrow it down a bit more or we'll just end up worrying Ana more than she already is."

My jaw tenses. This whole thing feels like it's unfair to Ana; she should know what is happening to her son as it happens. The only upside to this right now is my mother is here and she won't leave Ana out of the loop like some other doctors might. "Where's the waiting room?" I ask rather than arguing.

Grace points down a corridor. "Waiting room B. It's on the left."

I nod. "Thanks, Mom," I murmur hastily as I walk away.

The moment I lay eyes on Ana I feel relieved and sad all at once. She's curled up in a chair staring unfocused at a TV that is mounted on the wall across from her. From where I stand I can just see that she's crying silently and I want nothing more than to hold her and make her pain disappear. Instead I settle for clearing my throat softly to get her attention, immediately feeling guilty when she jumps a foot from her chair.

"Sorry," I say quietly, cautiously stepping into the room. "I didn't mean to startle you."

When she recovers from her mild shock, her expression melts away into what I think might be relief and maybe a bit of joy at having me here. A second later all those emotions are gone and she is observing me indifferently.

"Christian," she says softly, quickly wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Hi, Ana," I reply. I'm feeling a little uneasy, unable to glean a hint of what she's thinking right now.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to protect herself. "Did your mom..."

I shake my head. "No, my mom didn't call me. It was Elliot and Shannon, actually," I explain.

"Ah," she says in understanding. "Of course they did."

I sigh, still uncertain whether she even wants me here or not. "I just... I wanted to come check on you, make sure you have everything you need."

"Oh," she says."

"Is there anything I can do?" I ask.

Shaking her head, she scrubs her hands down her face and I'm slightly taken aback when I see how this ordeal has already drawn the life out of her. "Thank you, but no," she replies. "It's pretty much just a waiting game at this point."

"Not for much longer," I assure her. She looks at me questioningly. "I ran into my mother on the way in and she wanted me to let you know she's here and she will update you as soon as she can."

Ana's eyes widen at my words and she relaxes significantly. "Your mom's here for Cody?" she whispers hopefully.

I can't help smiling. Finally I feel brave enough to sit down beside her. "Yeah, she's here," I say softly. "And you may not have known this, but my mom is actually one hell of a doctor so Cody is in the best hands."

Ana nods. "Very true," she agrees. "Thank you for telling me that; it actually makes me feel a lot better about this."

"I'm glad," I say softly. We watch each other for a minute or so, each of us waiting for the other to break the silence. Surprisingly, I'm the first to cave. I don't think that's ever happened to me before. "So how's Cody? What happened?"

Sighing heavily, Ana rests her head against the wall. "Honestly, Christian, I don't even really know," she begins quietly. "He had a cold all week which wouldn't be cause for alarm for most people, but since Cody was a premie, his immune system is not great. When he was a baby, he spent some time in the hospital because he caught a cold and it evolved into pneumonia. So now when he gets so much as a runny nose, I start thinking the worst. I took him to see your mom and everything checked out fine, so I treated him with cold medicine at home. He started feeling better last night and after four days of pent up energy because he slept all week, and he was bouncing off the walls,driving me crazy."

I try to fight against a smile, but Ana's narrowed eyes tell me I fail miserably.

"I'm glad you find my frustrations with my child so amusing," she grumbles, playfully, I think.

Raising my hands in surrender, I bite my lip to keep from smiling again. "My most sincere apologies, Miss Steele. Do please go on."

Her lips actually twitch and I feel proud that even in such serious circumstances I can amuse her. That amusement vanishes quickly. "So this afternoon, I took him to the playground so he could run around without me pulling out my hair. And he was perfectly fine at first—he was his typical energetic, happy self. I looked up from the book I was reading and I saw him standing there like he'd hit a brick wall. I thought maybe he was having an asthma attack or something, but before I could get to him with his inhaler, he just... dropped to the ground. Ryan got to him before I could and started CPR while Sawyer called for an ambulance. Right before the ambulance got there, Cody started breathing again, but he was still unconscious. And now we're here and I am more scared than I have ever been in my life, because I don't know if I'm going to hold him again or see him smile and laugh..."

She looks away from me, trying to hide the fact that her eyes are filling with water. Suddenly I don't give a fuck about the fact that Ana and I aren't together right now and reach over and pull her into my lap. To my surprise she comes willingly and presses her face into my shoulder, her arms around my waist. "You'll do all that again soon, Ana," I breathe against her hair. "Cody is an amazing little boy and he's strong. He'll be fine."

I don't know if she believes me or not, but she actually relaxes in my arms. We sit together for a while and I'm determined to enjoy it while it lasts. For now she's in my arms again and I'm at peace for the first time in weeks. To my disappointment, though, Ana eventually shifts in my lap, which is a little uncomfortable for me, and breaks our embrace to sit in her own chair again.

"Do you need anything? Have you eaten?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I'm not hungry right now," she says.

I'm not surprised and I don't press the issue. "Would you like some tea?" I say hopefully.

Her lips pull up into a smile. "Sure, tea sounds good," she says indulgently.

I narrow my eyes playfully. "Are you only saying that so I feel useful?" I ask.

Her smile widens slightly. "Maybe, but I would appreciate it," she says.

As I leave the waiting room, I run into Sawyer who has apparently been doing rounds throughout the hospital. "Sir," he says as I approach him.

"Sawyer," I respond. "Anastasia said you and Ryan were quick to respond to Cody. Thank you."

"Of course, sir," he says. Hesitating, he asks, "Have there been any updates on Cody's condition?"

I shake my head. "Not yet, but I will keep you apprised," I assure him as he seems genuinely concerned about Cody. "Where is Ryan?"

"He's sticking as closely to Cody as he can." Again he hesitates. "And Miss Steele? Is she holding up all right?" he asks, his concern slightly more palpable.

Narrowing my eyes, I study Sawyer, wondering, not for the first time, if there may be something happening between Ana and her security detail. I've been apart from Ana for weeks now and perhaps she considers us broken up. Sawyer would have been right there to provide comfort late at night, and I know from personal experience how irresistible Anastasia Steele can be. The irrational jealousy I've only ever felt with Ana begins to rise and I suddenly want to rip off Sawyer's arms.

"She's fine," I say coldly. "I'll be here with her and with Ryan staying with Cody, so you can head home."

Sawyer looks slightly taken aback by my change of tone, but I really don't give a fuck. "Yes, sir," he says as I walk away.

Sullen, I continue onto the in-hospital Starbucks, ordering Ana's tea and a coffee for myself. While I wait, I text Taylor to let him know where I am and why. He texts back quickly which tells me he's been wondering where I am and asks if Ana or I need anything. For now I say no, at least until I have more of an idea how long she and I will be here.

On the way back to Anastasia with coffee and tea in hand, I recall what put me into a foul mood. I'm well aware that Ana has a past—Cody is proof of that—but the thought of her with anybody else infuriates me and twists my insides to the point of pain. I have to remind myself that there is no proof that anything has happened between Ana and her CPO, and Sawyer is only human. He spends most of the day keeping Ana safe; of course he'll be concerned about her and her son.

 _Get a grip, Grey_.

When I return, it seems as though my mother has just arrived with another doctor. They look over when I walk in and I'm uncertain whether I should stay or go until Ana gives me a smile, however weak it is, and gestures for me to come in. The look on my mother's face softens as I stand beside Ana and it gives me hope that she's forgiven me for my affair with Elena.

"We're still working on a diagnosis for Cody," Grace begins. "But currently our biggest concern is his heart given the problems he had when he was first born. I believe his asthma exacerbated the issue which led to his unresponsiveness this afternoon."

Ana closes her eyes tightly and I reach out for her hand before I realize it, squeezing her fingers reassuringly. She squeezes back, I assume in gratitude. "Can I see him?" she asks quietly.

"Soon," Grace promises her. "We're doing a couple chest scans before moving him to a room."

Grudgingly, Ana nods. "Okay," she says quietly.

Grace gives her a sympathetic smile and reaches out to squeeze Ana's shoulder. "We'll figure this out, Ana," she says. "Just try to be patient."

Ana nods silently and I vaguely wonder if she heard anything my mother said. After Grace and the other doctor leave, Ana remains frozen in place. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I lead her to the chairs and sit her down. She looks shell-shocked almost, and as though she's imagining every possible worst-case scenario. Giving her a few moments to wrap her head around things, I dunk the English breakfast teabag into the cup of hot water for a few seconds until the water changes color, then throw away the bag.

Finally Ana snaps out of her stupor and takes the tea I hand to her with the shadow of a grateful smile. "Thank you," she says softly.

"Of course," I murmur. We sit silently together sipping our respective drinks until I broach the subject that has been on my mind almost since I got here. "Cody has heart problems?"

She sighs and nods. "When he was a baby, some of his doctors didn't think his heart was strong enough to compensate for the energy required for his body to get to full term. Your mom was the first doctor who told me those other doctors were full of shit and the first one who believed Cody was strong enough to make it. As he got older, his heart was always going to be a concern, but he wasn't showing symptoms related to heart problems. I thought I'd gotten lucky and his body just cured itself over time." She shrugs. "Now, though... I don't know."

I take her hand again. "Well, in case you didn't realize, more often than not, my mother is right, so if she says Cody is strong enough, believe her."

Again, she sighs, but doesn't reply audibly. Instead, she rests her head on my shoulder. I don't know how else to reassure her, so we sit in silence for an interminable about of time until, finally, a nurse arrives to tell us that Cody is settled in his room and leads us that way. Ana grips my hand, either seeking comfort or out of habit, I'm not sure. I hesitate outside the room, wondering if I should give Ana some time alone with her son. But when I tug on her hand to pull away, she looks at me in confusion.

"What?" she asks quietly.

"I can wait out here if you prefer," I tell her, though it's the last thing I actually want right now.

She gives me a look of understanding, revealing a slight vulnerability. "Stay with me," she asks anxiously.

Floored though I am at her borderline desperate response, my mind goes another direction. Naturally, she would want somebody familiar to be with her right now. Since Shannon isn't here, I'm her only option. I ignore the implications of this—that she only wants me around for convenience sake—I can revisit that later. For now she needs me, convenient or not, and I'm going to stay here with her for as long as she wants. I'm not under any delusion about this being some kind romantic reunion or that she's changed her mind without us even having a discussion about it. By now I've become accustomed to watching loved ones turn away from me; I don't expect Ana to be any different.

 _She's already done it once already._

I shake these thoughts from my head, shifting my expression into something more appropriate. "Of course I will," I pledge softly.

Smiling in relief, she pushes open the door. Just before I step through, I spot Ryan waiting down the hall keeping an eye on things. Ana gasps, drawing my attention towards the hospital bed where Cody sleeps, wires hooked up to his small body beneath his hospital gown, machines beeping beside him. Ana's hand falls limply from mine as she crosses the room to her son and brushes some hair off of his forehead.

"He looks so small," I say, not realizing I spoke out loud.

Ana nods. "Yes, he does," she says wistfully, sitting in a chair beside the bed. I take a chair on Cody's other side. "This is happening, right?" she asks. "It's not a nightmare?"

"Not a nightmare," I say apologetically. "Sorry."

She shrugs. "I figured it was too much to ask for."

The door opens and my mother enters with her colleague. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Ana," she says, standing at the end of the bed, reaching for Cody's chart.

"It's fine," Ana assures her hurriedly. "How's Cody?"

"Well," Grace begins, "there is an anomaly on Cody's chest scan, his heart in particular." She takes a large envelope from the other doctor and pulls out what looks like an x-ray, holding it up for Ana to see, pointing at something I can't quite make out. "This is the image from Cody's chest scan, and this," she circles a small black dot with a marker, "is what concerns me."

"What is it?" Ana asks. "A tumor?"

Grace shakes her head. "No," she assures. "I believe it is an atrial septal defect." When Ana and I look at her uncomprehendingly, she smiles briefly. "It's a hole in the septum between the heart's two upper chambers."

"My son has a hole in his heart?" Ana asks weakly.

"I'm still awaiting results from the CT scan which will tell us definitively, but if that is the diagnosis, we will have to have a conversation about how to treat Cody."

"What are the options?" I ask before I can stop myself. Ana looks at my mother expectantly.

"Surgery is one," Grace says, her tone business-like.

Ana's eyes close tightly and I'm tempted to move around the bed to comfort her. "Why is he asleep?" she asks after a moment.

"We had to lightly sedate him during the scans," Grace explains. "Typically, we'd prefer not to put patients with heart problems under sedation, but he woke during one of the scans and we couldn't keep him still long enough to finish the testing. He'll probably sleep through night." Grace squeezes Ana's arm. "I realize this is happening quickly, but we'll get through it. Cody is in the best hands, I promise that."

Ana only nods. My mother glances cursorily at me and leads her colleague out of the room. I sigh, wondering how much longer I'll feel awkward around my own parents. Instead of thinking that this could last for weeks to come, I focus on Ana.

"Are you all right?" I ask, knowing it's a stupid question.

"Spectacular," she says dully.

With a sigh, I get up and move my chair around the bed to sit beside her, taking her hand in mine. "I honestly don't know what to say to make you feel better," I admit. "But whatever happens, I'm here for you, whatever you need."

She squeezes my fingers. "I know," she say softly, glancing at me briefly. "Thank you."

For now there is nothing more to say so we sit in silence until Ana sighs despondently. "This is my fault," she whispers, and I wonder if she meant to say it out loud.

"Why would you say that?" I ask with a furrowed brow. "This is in no way your fault."

She shakes her head. "It is, though," she replies miserably. "This is a birth defect caused by premature birth. Cody was born far too early, all because I wasn't smart enough to not get behind the wheel the day my mother died. I could have killed us both. But now, my son has a multitude of problems that in all likelihood could follow him to adulthood. And if I lose him..." Her voice breaks and trails off.

"You're not going to lose him," I say firmly. "Think positively." I frown. It sounds like something John Flynn would tell me that I would only ignore, because the worst always comes to pass with me. But Ana is normally so positive and she somehow sees the silver lining in everything. To see her on the brink of giving up is troubling.

"Think positively," she repeats doubtfully. "You know, at first, I wasn't even sure I wanted Cody. I was in school and loved it. But I had Preston, who I also loved—that was clearly a massive oversight. My parents weren't exactly thrilled... But after Preston... did what he did—"

 _Translation: Beating the shit out of her._ But I hold my tongue.

"I went through every option available to me. I considered terminating my pregnancy, but that barely lasted thirty seconds, because I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself. And I considered adoption. I could find a good family for my baby, one that could give him every opportunity he deserves rather than being raised by a young, single mother who couldn't give him a good enough life. That one stuck with me for a while," she admits almost ashamedly.

"What changed?" I ask softly.

A little smile appears on her face. "My 18-week sonogram," she says. "It was the first time I could see his fingers and toes, and while the doctor was moving the wand around, it looked like he was following it and looking right at me through the screen. Until then, I felt disconnected from my pregnancy and it still felt like an abstract concept. After that, I knew there was no option that didn't involve me raising my son. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but my parents had gotten past their shock and were there to support me however they could. I had a handful of friends I thought were there for me, and they were for a while, but most of them lost interest in my drama or they were friends with Preston first." She rolls her eyes and shrugs. "But I was excited for the first time since I found out I was pregnant. I couldn't wait to meet my child.

"And it's not perfect; it's never been perfect. But it's been close at times." Her eyes dart briefly at me and she blushes. "I thought at some point we'd catch a break... I still wonder sometimes if I made the right decision not going the adoption route."

"Of course you did," I say quietly but firmly. "Anastasia, you're an amazing mother." She looks at me doubtfully. "No, you are. From the moment I met you, you were putting your son's needs above your own. If you weren't, you'd be a bad mother. You're giving Cody the best life you can, and for that reason and so many others, I am in awe of you. You can't blame yourself for any of this. If you start down that road, you'll never stop."

She doesn't respond immediately as she thinks over what I said. I hope she believes me. I started out with a terrible, neglectful mother with the crack whore and somehow lucked out with meeting Grace after she died. Cody hit the lottery with his mother and he probably won't even realize it until he's an adult. Hell, I didn't realize exactly how well I'd done until recently, when everything started to fall apart again.

Ana sighs heavily and turns to glance at me. "Your turn," she says pointedly.

I frown at her. "My turn for what?" I ask cluelessly.

"What's going on between you and your mother?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. I look away, searching for anything to explain away what she thinks she saw. Ana rolls her eyes. "You think I haven't noticed the frigid tension whenever the two of you are in the same place? I've just been too distracted to say anything about it."

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. "Ana, we really don't have to talk about this right now," I say dismissively. It's probably the very last thing she would want to hear, after all.

"I want to talk about anything that doesn't involve my three-year-old possibly having heart surgery," she says plainly.

I smile humorlessly, knowing that no matter what I do or say right now, Ana is going to get her way. I debate giving her the bullet point version of events, but I always intended to tell her everything eventually, assuming she was still willing to speak to me at all.

"After you left," I begin quietly, staring at my fingers, since I can't bring myself to look at her right now, "I confronted Elena about the mall incident." I shake my head, recalling the rage I felt when I walked into Esclava that morning. "I thought she might have been following you, waiting for a moment to make some move when I wasn't around. I ripped into my security team for letting her anywhere near you and Cody, but they swore they never saw her—only the day Cody wandered away. Besides following you around town all day every day isn't her style. Having you followed, however..." I glance at her as her brow furrows and eyes widen in realization of what I'm saying. "Well, I told Elena that day I was cutting all ties with her—personal, professional, everything. She tried to play it off like she planned all of this solely for my benefit because she was only looking after me, which is bullshit. I gave her thirty days to buy the salons or I'm going to tear them apart brick by brick. I don't think she believed me.

"But when I left, I realized there was a flaw in my plan. I could kick her out of every aspect of my life, but I would still see her at social gatherings, family dinners, that sort of thing. She left me no choice, though, and after what she pulled with you and Cody, there was no forgiving her or saying 'oh, that's just Elena'. So I arranged to have my parents join me at one of my therapy sessions where I told them everything." I pause. "Well, not _everything_ , but about my relationship with Elena—when it started, how long it went on for. I couldn't tell them about the nature of the relationship. My mother has at least an inkling of what Elena is into and she asked me if that's what our relationship was, but..." I shake my head. The looks of horror on my parents' faces was bad enough when they knew I'd lied to them for so long. I couldn't subject them to any more of my darkness and depravity; they didn't deserve that.

I finally look at Ana. Her eyes are wide with shock and I think compassion for me. "That must have been..." she trails off, unable to come up with the right words. "What'd they say?" she whispers.

I close my eyes, picturing Flynn's office and my parents as I awaited their judgment. "Not much," I answer. "Once I finished telling them, they got up and left. Until today, I haven't spoken to them since."

Ana continues to stare at me, then shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Christian," she says quietly. "I didn't know."

I shrug one shoulder. "How could you have?" I ask her without any hint of accusation or rancor. "It was a long time coming and it guarantees Elena is completely out of my life."

"Yeah, but..." She frowns. "It can't have been easy." I don't think it's what she wants to say.

"No," I agree, shaking my head. "But necessary."

She hesitates. "And you did that for me?" she asks tentatively.

I can't decide what she wants the answer to be. "Partially," I admit, still trying to figure this woman out. "I warned her so many times to stay away from you and she didn't listen. And worse, she brought Cody into it. But I also remember you saying to me once that it seemed wrong to have someone like Elena spending time with my family like she's one of them. I used to pride myself on how well I kept the secret and kept up the lies, but all it's done is driven a wedge between me and everyone I love. And I thought about Cody, how I would feel if he were in that position one day and it pissed me off and disgusted me. I've had my opinions about Elena and I'm still working through a lot of it, but it didn't feel right to keep her in my life after that."

Ana nods, turning back to Cody. She sighs in what looks like relief, though I'm not sure relief from what. "I'm proud of you," she whispers so quietly that I spend several minutes wondering if I imagined it. Before I can ask her, there is a light knock on the door and we both look over as Shannon and Elliot enter. I give up my chair to Shannon and stand with my brother while Ana gives them the rundown of events so far.

"I could use a coffee," Elliot says after a while and, I think, a pointed glance from Shannon to give her and Ana some privacy. "You?"

Inwardly rolling my eyes, I nod. "Sure," I mutter. With a brief glance and reassuring smile from Ana, I follow my brother out of the room towards the cafeteria.

"So how's Ana holding up?" Elliot asks as we step into the elevator.

I sigh. "Damn well, under the circumstances," I answer. "I imagine it helps that Mom is here overseeing everything."

Elliot glances at me. "Funny, Mom said she thought Ana was doing well because you're here with her."

I frown. What could I have done to make this better for her? I don't know what's wrong with her son and I'm not able to do anything to help him. And suppose Cody does need heart surgery. He's just a baby, younger than I was when the crack whore died. What if he can't handle it? What will Ana do then?

 _Don't think like that, Grey._

When we reach the cafeteria I realize it's long past dinnertime and I'm hungry so while Elliot gathers a tray of coffees and tea for Ana, I manage to find a decent looking sandwich and a bag of chips and sit at a table to eat. I barely even notice when Elliot joins me and I only look when I feel him staring at me like I've grown a second head.

"What?" I ask around the sandwich.

He shrugs, smirking. "Just... don't you look like the overly concerned father?" he says, his tone only slightly teasing.

I roll my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," I mutter. "There's concern, yes, because I like Cody and I'm worried about Ana, but..." My thoughts go back some time ago to when I was considering my future with Ana and Cody. I shake my head. "Don't say that shit around Ana, okay? This is difficult enough."

"Looked to me like you two were getting along perfectly fine," he says dismissively.

"Yeah, well, she's distracted," I mutter, hoping he doesn't as what we were talking about. But I think he's learned his lesson about butting his head too far into my business after our conversation at the bakery.

"I just mean it's good to see you a little more like yourself," Elliot says. "You can deny the reasons you're here all you want, but anyone could see how you feel about them and I think it's mutual."

Though I'm unwilling to admit it out loud, it's actually a relief to hear Elliot say that. On a good day, I wasn't always certain how Ana felt about me. She has walls that she's built up around her to shield her from harm, walls similar to my own. It's all about protection from the outside world. She's so young, but she's been through so much, dealt with so much that a lesser woman would crumble. I don't know how she does it, especially on her own. She should have someone to help carry that weight on her shoulders. I just have to figure out how to ensure I'm that someone.


	17. Author's Note

Hi everyone,

I know you're all waiting on the next update, but I'm currently hospitalized and unable to get anything out for you. I have every intention of finishing this story, but my health is currently the priority, so I would greatly appreciate your patience right now. As soon as I am able, I will have the next chapter out to you. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. Please stick with me.

Take care,

Fiftyesque


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